


Prices of Love

by bilgegungoren00



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: District 12, District 2, F/M, Hunger Games, Hunger Games AU, Panem, still aliens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilgegungoren00/pseuds/bilgegungoren00
Summary: “Do you think it’s a coincidence that we ended up here together, at the same time? Two survivors of destroyed planets?”“…No.”A Karamel Hunger Games AU.





	1. The Deer

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello y'all! 
> 
> soooooo...honestly, i don't know where this came from, or i don't know why i'm writing this years after the first Hunger Games book was released, but you know what you gotta do when a good idea pops in your mind: you write it. i'm gonna be frank, this starts a bit slowly and the first couple of chapters will barely have any Karamel, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end ;)
> 
> anyway, i hope you like this :)

The deer was beautiful.

Kara had been following it for some time now, staying at least a hundred feet away from it, so as not to scare it off. In some ways, the animal was really different from what she’d remembered from Krypton. There, animals were taken care of, whether they were in the wild or living in the cities, instead of being left by themselves in the woods. There, their fur shone with love and their bellies were filled with food provided by Kryptonians. There, no one killed an animal for the fun of it, no one tortured them, no one used them for their own good. Animals had been happy.

But Krypton was long gone, and now Kara was on earth, Panem, where killing became a sport of the rich.

She took a shaky breath to shake off her thoughts. She hated killing, even though it’d been eight years since she’d started hunting animals. The number of animals she killed with her own hands weren’t more than a handful. She was just the hunter; she captured them, leaving the killing to her sister Alex. Alex, who’d been perched up on a tree now, a bow stretched in her hands, waiting for Kara to give her the signal. Alex offered her sister a smile over her arrow before turning her attention to the deer.

_It’s for my family,_ Kara thought as she moved into position, just as she always repeated inside whenever she needed to hunt. _We need to eat, and a deer could feed us for a week._ She hated herself for having to hunt, but what she hated most was the despicable _system_ that forced her to hunt in the first place. The system that let its citizens starve, forcing them to find alternative ways to get food.

She didn’t even _mention_ what was happening later that day.

Yet she couldn’t do anything about it, not even with her superpowers. All that they did for her was allowing her to hunt better.

She kept her gaze on the deer, stretching her legs behind to pounce on it, clearing all thoughts from her head. _It’s for my family._

And then she jumped on the deer.

She grabbed its neck before it could even realize what was going on, holding it strongly enough that it wouldn’t be able to escape. She bared its skin for Alex to shoot at. “Alex, now!”

Merely a second later an arrow lodged into the deer’s neck, right where its trachea was. The deer whimpered in her hands as its breath shortened, and she could hear it all, every weakening heartbeat, every shallow breath, every move of its muscles as it tried to fight death. Kara lay it to the ground softly.

Maybe what made it harder for her than anyone else—than Alex—was that she could hear them dying. She could hear them struggling with everything that they had, knowing it wouldn’t help at the end. Knowing she and Alex would have to carry it home, because they needed it, because they needed food and this was the only way of getting it.

A Kryptonian prayer left her lips briefly as the deer closed its eyes, its heartbeats finally dissipating until she couldn’t hear anything.

* * *

“Well, you look overly cheerful for the reaping day.” Kara snapped from her thoughts with her sister’s words, looking up from her breakfast—which was nothing more than a piece of bread with some cheese anyway. “You’ve been looking at that bread as if it did something to you.”

“No, I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t,” Kara objected, trying to erase her frown from her face. “I was just…tired. We did hunt a deer today, Alex.” Which was technically true, but one thing Alex knew was that, thanks to her Kryptonian genes, Kara could function perfectly even with minimal sleep and hours of training. She scoffed.

“Yeah, right. As if catching a deer is hard for you. You _literally_ have superpowers.” That earned her a glare from Kara. “And you can’t tell me that you aren’t glad that frozen deer will keep our bellies full at least for a week.”

Kara sighed as she eyed the pile of their hunt behind them, kept fresh and frozen thanks to her freeze-breath. After the deer, they also managed to capture two squirrels, which were better than nothing, honestly. “I know, I know,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “Sorry I’m being a downer. I just…”

“Hate the reaping day?” Alex suggested softly. She knew that these hunts didn’t normally affect Kara this much; there had been many days they returned home with a deer in Kara’s arms, laughing and joking with each other. But reaping day…reaping day was different for Kara. Seeing numerous sent to their death without giving them a choice for some ridiculous rebellion that happened tens of years ago… It was a hard pill to swallow for someone who came from a free, civilized planet. Kara had never seen famine or violence in her childhood; she was raised with values that _banished_ them. It wasn’t a big surprise that Hunger Games affected her so much.

“Yeah,” Kara sighed softly, lifting her head to look at the sky, presumably thinking about Krypton. “It had been nine years, and it still hadn’t gotten easier.”

“I don’t think it ever does.” Alex put her hand on her sister’s reassuringly, her lips pressed tightly together. “Knowing that those chosen children are going to their deaths…”

“Knowing you can actually stop it,” Kara quietly added. “You can volunteer in their place, but you don’t, because you’re selfish and somehow you decide your life is worth more than them. Or… Or in my case, my secret.”

“Kara, don’t say that,” Alex warned her sister. Yet Kara just lifted her head, looking at the forest in front of her.

“You were the one that told me I could win Hunger Games if I wanted, Alex. At my…my first reaping day. You can’t tell me it’s not true.” She grabbed a small stone from the ground and crushed it in her hand without a problem. “I’m bulletproof. I have super-speed, super-strength, and super-hearing. I can shoot literal lazers out of my eyes if I want to, or freeze someone with my breath. Nobody in those games would be able to kill me.” Alex’s heart went out to her sister with those words. The things she could accomplish with her abilities weighed on her, especially as she was unable to do anything with them.

“But you know what will happen if your abilities are discovered. You know what Capitol will do to you—or to us, in that case.” She leaned forward to look at her sister’s eyes. “There’s nothing you can do, Kara.”

“Isn’t there?” Kara tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before she continued. “In Krypton, we were taught that if we saw someone suffering or hungry, we should help. No matter how young we were, no matter how little opportunity we had. Whether it was just a piece of bread, or a bed for a night, we gave those people _something_. I just… I can’t believe that there’s _nothing_ I can do here.”

Alex had nothing to say, even as Kara stood up and tucked the remaining of her bread in her hands. “You can eat the rest. And then we should go. We still have to get ready for the _reaping day._ ” She moved to their hunts to throw them over their shoulder.

She stopped and turned to Alex before the woman could even move. “And you should know, Alex,” she whispered, so quietly that even Alex barely heard it. “If your name gets chosen… I’d never let you go to the Games. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll never let you die.”

She’d grabbed the animals and started walking before Alex could say a word.

* * *

Mon-El stared at the target fifty feet away from him as he pulled his bow tightly yet carefully. Not that he needed to be careful; barely anyone was at the training center in the morning of the reaping day. All of them were spending the days with their families, dreaming about the glory they would get once their names would be added to the pool of winners of the Hunger Games. All of them were eager to be chosen, as if they were going to a simple competition and not a death sentence.

He still didn’t get why. It’d been years since he landed on earth, and still, he didn’t understand why anyone would want to join something like that, let alone actually _host_ it. Even in Daxam, his vicious home planet, this would be seen as sickening.

At least there, no one unwilling was chosen for death matches.

At least there, children weren’t sacrificed.

At least there, numerous people weren’t dying of famine and diseases while one part of the country was swimming in riches.

Rage burned in his lungs as he finally let go of the bow, letting the arrow fly to the target. It lodged right in the middle.

He knew just punching that damn target would be a lot more cathartic, but a fist shaped hole in one of the training dummies would be way too suspicious. One thing he was sure of in this whole mess of a country was that he had to hide he was an alien. He had to hide the fact that he had superpowers, because if the Capitol, the government of Panem, got a sniff of it… He’d be in unimaginable danger.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and grabbed another arrow, shooting it to the next target. He hit the bullseye again.

He stopped when he heard someone clap from the training room’s door. Winn. _Of course._ The only other person who would be here at this hour, not to train, per se, but to see him. Winn…wasn’t a fan of Hunger Games either, unlike literally every teenager in District 2.

“You know, I might not have hated Hunger Games this much if I had your aim. Because _damn,_ Mon.” He looked at the five dummies across from Mon-El, all of them with an arrow lodged in its chest. “That’s one hell of an aim. Do you also have, like, super-sight that you somehow forgot to tell me?”

Mon-El chuckled as he chucked the bow and arrows back into their place. “I wish. That would be amazing. And you know you’d still hate it.” He grabbed his towel to wipe off the sweat from the nape of his neck. He saw Winn scrunch his nose and nod.

“Ye-yeah. You know what, yeah. I’d still hate it.” Mon-El flashed him a smile. That was one reason he loved Winn—he at least had the sense of hating children massacre. “But that doesn’t change that you’d be a good tribute.”

“Winn—“

“What? You have super-speed and super-strength, you can leap really high, and you’re literally bulletproof.”

“I’m not, actually. Lead can pierce my skin, and most weapons here are made of lead.”

“Well, then I’m sure you’d be able to avoid them with, wait for it, your super-speed, if you need it.”

“Or,” Mon-El said, chucking the towel to his friend before he continued, “you could create me some lead-less weapons, and then I’d become the instant winner. Don’t tell me that’s not what you’re training for.” Even though people in district 2 chosen for weapons manufacture were usually kept secret, Winn was natural at anything tech related, and it’d be stupid if they didn’t consider him.

“Maybe. _Maybe._ I’m not saying no.” Winn followed Mon-El to the changing rooms, dropping the towel in one of the towel bins. “But back to you. You knew you’d be a winner if you volunteered for a Game.”

“Winn—“

“And I know it’s disgusting, but it has its benefits—“

“ _Never_ , Winn. You should know that.” No matter how glorious it would be, no matter what benefits he had, he refused to be a part of something that killed innocent people.

Winn sighed, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “And that’s why you’re my best friend,” he said, punching Mon-El on the shoulder as a joke. The Daxamite couldn’t help chuckling when he drew his hand back to his chest. “Even though you have a skin of steel. _Geez.”_

“You’re the one that punched me,” Mon-El retorted, yet Winn just scowled at him as he walked to the exit door.

“And I’m beginning to regret it! You and your damned alien abilities.”

Mon-El was still laughing by the time Winn left the room.


	2. The Reaping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like this chapter :)
> 
> p.s. i know i haven't been answering the comments lately, but i've been a hectic couple of weeks in school so i've basically taken a social media break - except posting my stories lol. but i read them all, and i appreciate all of them, so i just wanted you to know that :) thank you so so so much :)
> 
> love y'all

“It’s your last year of reaping,” Kara whispered to Alex as they made their way through the crowd, already having checked off their names from the entry list. Kara had her kryptonite bracelet around her wrists for that—as it turned out, the material, which Eliza recovered from the pod she landed on earth with, was the only thing she was vulnerable to—as she needed the needles to draw blood from her finger. She didn’t know how Jeremiah had done it, but he’d managed to sneak Kara’s name and blood to the registry as an official citizen of District 12. That meant she’d have to enter her name to Hunger Games, but that was a risk she could take rather than someone getting suspicious about where she came from.

Besides, it gave her a chance to protect her sister. She was one year younger, so Alex had to enter her first reaping without Kara. She didn’t remember another day she’d been so scared. Four papers—there had been four papers with her sister’s name written on them, one for her age and three for getting tesserae. If you were struggling with food shortages, as district 12 often was, you could get a yearly supply of food called tesserae for each member of your family, in exchange of having your name entered multiple times to the reaping. Alex had to get them since Kara couldn’t, and if her name was picked… Kara couldn’t protect her. Alex would have to go to Hunger Games, and there was no guarantee that she’d survive, especially at the age of twelve.

She’d vowed, since then, that she’d never put Alex in that kind of a danger again. She hadn’t even let her sister get any more tesserae, bearing the weight all by herself. She had a chance of surviving the Games, a chance that Alex didn’t. She wasn’t about to risk her sister.

Alex smiled down at her sister with her words as Kara reached to her wrist to take off her bracelet. “Yeah. Being eighteen has its perks.” She snatched it from Kara’s hands as if it was a prize, slipping it into her pocket, ignoring the glare Kara sent her way.

“Well, you don’t have to be _snobbish_ about it, you know,” she said, stretching her wrist to get rid of the numbness caused by the kryptonite.

“I’m just _saying_.” Alex offered Kara a small smile and a wink before making her way to where the other 18-year-olds were. “But in any case, _may the odds be_ ever _in our favor._ ” Kara rolled her eyes, even as she moved to her place. As if odds were _ever_ in anyone’s favor in this place.

She was twisting her hair between her fingers—a nervous tick—as the escort from Capitol finally took her place on the stage. Cat Grant. She was shining among a crowd of drab colors in her pink dress, overly-done makeup, and blonde hair that looked like some glitter monster puked on it.

Just as any other person from Capitol, she was trying to assert her superiority with her appearance. Even though… Well, being the escort of district 12 was anything but superior. It was the poorest of the districts with the highest rate of deaths, and the lowest number of Hunger Games winners. While escorting the tributes to the Capitol for the Games was usually a respectable job, nobody liked being the escort of a loser district.

Still, Cat had an enormous smile on her face—a sickening smile, if you asked Kara—as she tapped on the microphone. “Welcome,” she said, her overly chirpy voice ringing around the Hall of Justice—where the reaping took place. “Welcome, everyone. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

Nobody dared to say anything to that, yet even Kara rolled her eyes. They all knew no tribute from district 12 would ever stand a chance.

“Now, before we begin, we have a special movie, coming all the way from the Capitol. Let’s watch.”

A special movie indeed, so special that they watched it every damn year _. Nothing but a ridiculous propaganda,_ Alex called it. She wasn’t wrong.

Kara’s eyes flickered to the screen as images of the war, the war from 52 years ago, appeared. She couldn’t do anything other than clenching her fists, even as rage was bubbling in her stomach.

“War. Terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child.” _And whose fault was that?_ Kara couldn’t help thinking. _The oppressor who tortured people for years, or the oppressed who finally had it enough to start a revolution?_ “This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace.” _If this is your idea of peace, I want none of it._ “Hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes, and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost.” _What freedom?_ “When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up and tribute one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice.” _As if there can be anything honorable or courageous about sending children to their death._ “The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future.”

_The future of the select few living in the riches of Capitol._ Kara bit back her words as she told herself to calm down, repeating in her mind that voicing her thoughts would only get her in more trouble. But when Alex had first told her about the real story of the rebellion—the Dark Days, as they were apparently called—she couldn’t help feeling furious about it all. Capitol didn’t even consider what the districts had gone through and were still going through now while they made all that propaganda. They tried to make people forget that the reason the rebellion happened in the first place was that the districts were oppressed so much that people didn’t find another way out. They didn’t consider the lives of the people in the districts, the numerous children lost in the Hunger Games, while they had their fun with their riches. It was just a game for them, wasn’t it?

Kara’s attention was diverted to Cat Grant when she continued, a smile too big to be real on her face. “Now, it is time for us to pick one brave young woman and man for the honor of representing district twelve in the 52nd annual Hunger Games.”

_What an honor, indeed._

“As usual, ladies first.”

Kara held her breath as she watched Cat move to the giant glass bowl to her left. There were so many papers in there, too many, considering the number of children lined up in the place. Most of them were forced to take tesserae. Most of them had their names numerous times in that bowl. Most of them were shaking with the fear of being chosen.

_I’d stand a chance in the Games,_ Kara couldn’t help thinking once again. _I could save a life._ But at the cost of what? She didn’t know, and it terrified her enough that she knew she would keep quiet. She knew she wouldn’t volunteer—

“Alex Danvers.”

Her eyes shot up the moment she heard those words. _Alex Danvers._ No. No, it was impossible. It should be impossible. She must’ve heard it wrong, right? This was… This was Alex’s last year in the reaping! She would be free—she had to be free. She’d survived this long, only to end up here… No. _No._

Yet as she looked around, as she saw people parting to make way for her _sister,_ her stomach lurched. She’d been waiting for someone to say that it was a joke. She’d been waiting to wake up—this surely had to be a nightmare, right? She’d been waiting for Cat Grant to say another name…yet she didn’t. “Come on up, sweetie,” was the only thing that came out of her mouth, in fact.

That wasn’t what snapped her out of her stupor, though. It was the footsteps—Alex’s footsteps, moving her to the stage. Her chin was high, her hands clenched at her sides in an attempt to keep herself together, her face a mask of indifference. She wouldn’t show fear, Kara knew that. Her sister would walk up to that stage with dignity, even knowing that there was no way she could match up to any of the other tributes. Especially the career tributes—the ones from districts one, two, and four, who trained all their childhood for exactly this: winning the Games. Alex would _die_ there…

Kara couldn’t let that happen.

She was moving before she could even think about it, jostling through the crowd of girls, not even caring about who she hurt. She had to get to Alex, she had to _stop this._

“Alex!” Her words made her sister stopped as she ran out of the crowd, looking at her sister with wide eyes. Alex knew what she was planning on doing before Kara knew herself. Her eyes widened and she mouthed a quiet _no,_ yet Kara couldn’t even care about that as she rushed forward. She had to protect Alex. If she couldn’t do anything else, she had to protect Alex.

She could barely take a step forward before two Peacekeepers—guards from the Capitol—were on her, trying to push her back. “No!” She struggled in their arms, barely controlling her powers. “No, let me go. Let me go! Alex!”

“Kara—“ Alex shook her head, taking a step towards her sister—as much as the Peacekeepers would allow. She knew what Kara would do to save her…and she didn’t want her to do it. She’d rather die than let her sister expose her powers and become Capitol’s lab rat. “Don’t—“

But Kara didn’t let her sister stop her. What had she said just that morning? _If your name gets chosen… I’d never let you go to the Games. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll never let you die_. Alex and her parents had taken her in when she crashed on Earth, fed her and protected her through everything. They’d risked everything to make sure she was happy. They were her family…and she’d do anything to protect her family, Capitol be damned.

“I volunteer! I volunteer,” she yelled to the general direction of the stage as she pushed the Peacekeepers away. They were so surprised with her words that they didn’t even stop her as she stepped forward. She didn’t dare look at Alex, shutting out her objections. “I volunteer as tribute.”

The whole place went silent after those words. There hadn’t been a volunteer tribute from District 12 in…years. So much so that Alex had told Kara no one remembered the last one. You could volunteer to be a tribute in the Games in the place of the chosen tribute if you wanted, but since the Games were a death sentence for District 12…nobody dared to do that. Nobody…except Kara, except someone trying to save her sister.

“Kara, no,” Alex whispered, but it was too late. Once those words had left Kara’s mouth…she couldn’t take them back. So she straightened up her shoulders, looking at Cat Grant. A surprised, but almost elated smile was pulling her lips. “I believe we have a volunteer.”

Kara’s shoulders sagged with relief. She did it. She’d done it. Alex wasn’t going to the Hunger Games. She’d saved her sister—

She slipped from her thoughts when Alex appeared in front of her, her frantic eyes on Kara. “Kara, what did you do? What did you do?” she whispered, so quietly that Kara barely heard it with her super-hearing.

“I saved your life,” she rushed out, taking Alex’s hands in hers. “Alex, go to Eliza—“

_“No—“_

“I need you to be with Eliza, okay? I need you together.”

“Kara, don’t do this. Don’t go there—“

“I love you.” Kara pulled her sister into a tight embrace, biting her lip desperately to keep her tears at bay. “I love you, Alex. I need you to be strong for me. I can’t do this without your strength.” She pulled back only then to look at her sister’s eyes. “Please.”

Alex’s lips were trembling even as she nodded. Kara searched her face, to make sure Alex was okay—or at least as okay as she could be, knowing where Kara was going. Right into the bloodbath she hated so fiercely. Yet to save Alex, she’d do everything.

She forced a smile at her sister before turning to the stage, to Cat Grant. “In a dramatic turn of events,” she was saying, her face bright. Volunteers, especially in a district like this one, tended to get people talking. She was probably hoping she’d be upgraded to a better district. “District twelve has its first volunteer in years. Come on up, dear.”

Kara lifted her chin and clenched her teeth as she let the Peacekeepers lead her to the stage. Her eyes only briefly found Eliza—Alex’s mother—before she walked up those steps. Eliza had tears in her eyes—genuine tears for Kara, but also gratitude too. Because even she knew Kara had a better chance at surviving this than Alex. Even she knew Kara saved Alex’s life, her daughter’s life, and she was grateful.

Kara smiled and nodded at her, her way of saying _you’re welcome,_ before she turned to Cat. She didn’t hesitate as she walked up to the stage.

* * *

“Winn Schott Jr.”

Winn felt his heart stop the moment he heard his name. _No._ It was impossible. Out of everyone in this damn district…everyone who would be _elated_ to go to the Hunger Games… It shouldn’t be _him_ that the escort picked. It shouldn’t be _him._ Everyone knew that he wouldn’t survive it. There’d been a reason he’d been made fun of all these years. He wasn’t good with weapons in the way other kids were. He wasn’t a strategist, he wasn’t sportive, he wasn’t fit for the Games. It should be impossible.

And yet, as the guys parted to make him way, he realized it was true. He was chosen to go to the Hunger Games.

He gulped as he took the first step, trying not to show just how much his legs were shaking. _Someone will volunteer,_ he thought. Someone always did. They would volunteer and save him from this misery, save him from his _death._ Each step, he waited for those words, for someone to step forward and take his place, but no one did. For maybe the first time in the history of district 2, no one volunteered.

And Winn knew the reason why. As he lifted his head to look at the stage, to look at the female tribute, he knew why. Samantha Arias. She’d volunteered to be a tribute, and once that name circled around everyone’s ears, nobody would try to be her enemy. She was vicious, heartless, but most of all she was _skilled_. She’d been unbeatable in the training, and nobody, even the ones who had their eyes on glory, would dare go against her. Nobody could win against her.

And he was just lucky enough to be chosen _this year,_ when _she_ was a tribute. No one would volunteer and he’d die at the Games. He’d die, and no one would remember him—

“Wait. Winn, wait!” He could only snap out of his despair with the voice coming from behind him. He turned only to find…Mon-El. He’d parted the crowd and was rushing to his side, his steps quick on the floor. Winn knew him enough to know that he was scared, yet he was doing a much better job at hiding that.

Winn realized what he was doing one second before those words left his best friend’s mouth. “I volunteer. As tribute. I volunteer as tribute.” He almost sounded breathless as he stared at the stage, no hint of fear in his eyes. Even when Samantha smiled at him. Even when Peacekeepers came to his side. Even when he must’ve heard people talking about how _stupid_ it would be to go against Samantha.

“Well, it seems like we have a volunteer from our boys, too,” the escort said, gesturing at the Peacekeepers to bring Mon-El to the stage. And what Mon-El did hit Winn only then.

He’d volunteered to be a tribute in his place. He’d volunteered, when he just said that morning that there was _no way_ he’d go to the Games. He’d volunteered…to save Winn’s life.

Winn’s throat knotted when he looked at his best friend. He hated the concept of Hunger Games. He came from a very violent planet, a planet that he didn’t like very much, so even the _thought_ of it was enough to sicken him. Yet for Winn…to save Winn… He’d volunteered.

“Mon-El…” he whispered just as he was passing by. The Daxamite turned his eyes to him only then. His face was cold, emotionless, yet a flicker of forgiveness and care passed through his eyes as his gaze met Winn’s. He brushed his best friend’s arm briefly.

“Go be with your family, Winn. You deserve it.”

And then he was dragged off to the stage.

Winn didn’t remember who led him back to his place, didn’t remember how he ended up in his mother’s arms after the reaping, he didn’t remember people talking about how stupid what Mon-El did was around him. The only thing he could remember was Mon-El’s words. _You deserve it._ It hadn’t just been about deserving to be with his family. It was about living. It was about happiness too. He thought that Winn deserved happiness more than himself.

He just wished he could’ve told his friend just how wrong he’d been. But it was too late.


	3. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to post! the school, exams, and other stories got in the way, and i just couldn't finish the damn chapter...ooops. hopefully, the next chapter will be posted sooner!
> 
> anyway, hope you like this!

Mon-El looked outside from the Justice Building to District 2—where he was supposed to wait and say goodbye to his loved ones before being whisked off to the Capitol. Compared to what he’d seen about the other districts, especially the ones at the far end of the country, they lived a pretty glamorous lifestyle. Sure, they didn’t swim in riches like the people in Capitol did, but at least he didn’t remember a day he’d been worried about food or shelter. He’d managed to have a relatively normal life here—“relatively” in heavy quotation marks.

He was going to the Hunger Games, after all. How normal his life could be?

He sighed as he moved away from the TV and sat on the couch. Numerous people had come to say goodbye to him and bid him luck—and he’d need it. Despite the abilities the yellow sun of earth gave him, he wasn’t completely invulnerable, and one wrong move could easily kill him. And his visitors didn’t forget to remind him of that. Even the goodbyes of his adoptive parents had felt like a farewell.

Just as it’d been nine years ago, when he was forced to leave Daxam.

He still remembered its chaos, even though it was fuzzy in his mind now, as he’d been too young to remember everything. He was just seven, after all. Yet he remembered his parents, the King and Queen of Daxam, wrapping him inside a blanket and handing him off to a Guard. He remembered the Guard taking him to a pod as the rubble from Krypton rained on them—rubble from the _explosion_ of the planet. Krypton having an unstable core had always been a popular gossip among Daxamites, but Mon-El had never considered that it was actually true.

Yet that day… He’d truly seen the impacts of that unstable core. Daxamites, his people, dying all around him without a chance of escape. Blood—there’d been so much blood. He hated it. He hated seeing that, so much so that after some point he’d buried his face to the Guard’s shoulder, letting the Guard just carry him. He never wanted to see that kind of violence again.

It was almost ironic that he was going right back to that kind of bloodshed _voluntarily._ But…how could he let _Winn,_ his best friend and the only person who truly understood him, go there, knowing he’d definitely die? Before Winn had gotten picked for the Games, he’d been sure nothing could ever make him volunteer. But seeing his best friend walking to the stage… Thinking about his death…

Mon-El couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stay silent. He had to do something…and volunteering was literally the only way to save Winn.

He was surprised that he didn’t regret it. The only thing he regretted was waiting too long before coming forth, but volunteering… He didn’t regret that. He’d do anything to save someone he cared about.

He turned to the door of his room when he heard it being pushed open…and he saw that it was Winn standing behind it. Winn, with his teary eyes, pale face, and shaky hands.

Mon-El barely had time to even lift himself up from the couch before Winn rushed to his side and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re stupid,” the boy whispered, shaking his head. A small laugh escaped from Mon-El’s lips. “You’re _so stupid.”_

“I’m inclined to agree on that,” Mon-El had to agree as he pulled back to look at his best friend. So close, he was _so close_ to crying. “How are you feeling?” His voice was soft, soothing—at least as much as he could muster in this situation—yet Winn’s eyes still widened.

“How am _I_ feeling?” he asked incredulously, throwing his arms into the air. “How do you think I’m feeling? First, I get chosen for the Hunger Games, thinking I’d have to go there and go against Samantha and all the other Career tributes and I’d be dead before I even knew what I wanted to do with my life, and then…” He’d started pacing in the room by then, and he’d been speaking so quickly that Mon-El would never have been able to understand him without his super-speed. “And then _you,_ my best friend, volunteers in my place. In a district where _every year_ there is a girl and a boy volunteer, no one volunteers in the year I get chosen, and you…you have to step forward. Mon-El… How do you think I’m feeling?” His voice was breaking by the end, his lips starting to tremble, and Mon-El’s heart went out to him. Winn would never want this to happen, he wouldn’t want Mon-El to go to the Games, even if it meant he’d die.

Yet Mon-El couldn’t let _him_ die, no matter what.

He shrugged to try and lighten the mood, flashing Winn a broken smile. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Don’t you dare joke about this, Mon-El Gand. This isn’t something to joke about.” Winn’s harsh glare fixed on Mon-El, so much so that his smile slipped off of his face. He plopped down on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees.

“I know, Winn. I just…” _I don’t know how else to face this other than joking about it._ “And it’s Mike Matthews now. I have to use my human identity.” When his parents on earth adopted him, he’d given him that name, since a name like _Mon-El_ would ring alarm bells anywhere in Panem. He’d asked Winn to call him Mon-El when he told him that he was actually an alien. As much as he adopted the name Mike, Mon-El was who he really was, and everyone needed a reminder of that every now and then. But now…now he needed to be Mike. He needed to be a child of District 2, whose only goal was to go to the damn Games and win it. He needed to be vicious and cold—everything he wasn’t—if he wanted to win.

Yet that would’ve been easier if the idea of killing anyone didn’t make him feel sick to his stomach. “I don’t know how to do this, Winn,” he admitted finally, lifting his head to look at his friend. Guilt flickered in the boy’s eyes.

“You shouldn’t have volunteered—“

“Don’t—Don’t say that,” Mon-El stopped him before he could get far. “You should know that I’d never let you go there.”

“But you said you didn’t want to—“

“I know what I said.” Mon-El ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “But that was before your name was picked. That was before I…I had to face the possibility of losing my best friend.” He still remembered the terror that started churning in his stomach as he watched Winn walk to the stage. “I don’t regret what I did, Winn. You should know that. I wouldn’t regret saving you.” Winn didn’t say anything for a while, only looking at Mon-El, before he walked and sat down on the couch next to him.

“Then you _have to_ win, Mon-El.” His voice was shaking with desperation. “I know you hate bloodshed, I know you hate killing, but you have to win. _Please._ You have to at least _try.”_ Mon-El didn’t know what to do or say other than staring at his friend. “I can’t lose my best friend, either.”

Mon-El clenched his teeth as he turned to his hands. He found himself nodding a couple of seconds later, even though he didn’t know how exactly he’d be the kind of tribute the Capitol would want to be the winner. Even though he didn’t know how he’d be able to kill people, even if it was to survive.

Yet he nodded, because he knew Winn needed to hear it, and because…he knew how it felt to lose someone. He could at least try keeping Winn from feeling that.

* * *

Kara hated this room already.

She’d never been in the Justice Building before. She hadn’t really had a business here, certainly not about saying goodbye to the tributes. No one close to her had ever been chosen for Hunger Games.

No one…until this year. Until her _sister_ had gotten picked.

She pushed that thought away from her mind again as she heard the door of the room being pushed open. She lifted her head to see Alex rushing inside, her frantic eyes traveling around the room. They found Kara only one second later.

_“Kara.”_

And then she was rushing to her sister’s side. Even with her superpowers, Kara could feel just how _tight_ her sister’s hug was. Kara shut her eyes as she hugged Alex back, trying to push back her tears, not wanting to cry, especially not now. She needed to be strong. If Alex knew just how distraught she was…

“I’m okay, Alex,” she whispered, patting her sister on the back. “I’m okay.” She opened her eyes, only to see Eliza standing by the door and watching them, a broken smile on her face.

Eliza’s face was replaced with Alex’s tear-strained ones when she pulled back. “You’re not okay,” she said with a shaky voice. “Don’t—Don’t tell me that _any of this_ is okay, Kara. You’re… You’re going to the _Hunger Games.”_

“Alex…”

“You can’t even kill an animal, and you’re going to the Hunger Games. _How_ is it okay?”

“I had no choice.” Kara grabbed her sister’s hands and squeezed them, turning to Eliza as she joined the sisters. “I told you, Alex. I’m not letting you die if I can help it.”

“Kara—“

“I don’t regret it.” Kara realized just how true it was, so much so that it was almost scary. “Alex, you’re my sister. You and…and Eliza, and Jeremiah… You saved me when I came to earth. You adopted me, risking another mouth to feed even in this famine. This was the least I could do for you.”

“Kara…” Eliza stepped forward when she realized Alex was at a loss of words. “You know you didn’t have to do this to prove yourself. You’ll always be our family.”

“I know, but I’d never forgive myself if I let you die. I can survive this, Alex. You know that.” Alex could only nod, fresh tears running down her cheeks, before she pulled Kara into another hug.

“This feels so much like a farewell,” she whispered. Kara gulped, wanting to deny it, wanting to _promise_ Alex that she would get back…but the words couldn’t leave her mouth. This reminded her too much of her last day on Krypton, too. When her parents found out that Krypton was going to explode, they’d immediately pulled her into a pod. She’d just been eight—way too young to understand what was going on. She hadn’t realized that she’d be losing her parents forever. She hadn’t realized that she wouldn’t see Krypton, her home, again. She hadn’t realized her world would turn upside down…and she was feeling those same things right now. She was saying yet another goodbye to another family, and she was terrified that she wouldn’t see them again.

“It won’t be,” she managed to say finally as she pulled back. “I’ll fight to come back, Alex.”

“Then _do it_.” Alex looked at her mother for confirmation before she continued. “Truly fight, Kara. I know…you don’t like hurting or killing anyone. And I know you’ll object to this right now, but out there… You don’t have another choice. You won’t have someone with you to make the kill. You’ll need to do it yourself. If you want to survive, you’ll need to do it. And you can’t hesitate. Promise me you won’t hesitate.”

“Alex…” Even the thought of killing someone was enough to make Kara feel sick, even though she knew Alex was right. There was only one way out from the Hunger Games: if all the other tributes were dead.

“You have to promise me, Kara,” Alex insisted, squeezing Kara’s hand. The Kryptonian was sure her bones would be broken if she wasn’t an alien. “Please. You have to promise me.”

Kara could only answer a couple of seconds later. “Okay,” she said, even though it was hesitant, even though she couldn’t imagine herself killing anyone in any scenario. “Okay, I…I promise.” She reached for Eliza’s hand, too, offering her family a small smile. “You’re my family now. I’ll try my best to come back to you.”

“We love you, Kara,” Eliza said, reaching forward to put something in Kara’s palm. “And I want you to have this with you. A piece of your home so that you won’t forget yourself.” Kara arched her brows and opened her palm, only to see…

“My mom’s necklace,” she breathed as she lifted the necklace, watching the symbol of House of El dangle from it. The symbol of hope, of…home. She had to give it to Jeremiah when they were especially in a bad situation, so that he could sell it, so to see this now… “But I thought…

“Jeremiah couldn’t sell it. It was a part of your home. He thought that you might need it someday.”

Kara felt tears filling her eyes involuntarily as she stared at the necklace, and then to Eliza. She pulled the woman into a tight hug—as tight as she could without hurting her. “Thank you,” she whispered, gratitude filling her voice. “For everything.”

“You’ve always been a warrior, Kara. So fight. And then come back to us.”

Kara nodded as she pulled back, and then she allowed Eliza to put on the necklace around her neck. Even the presence of it was enough to calm her down, albeit slightly. She wrapped her fingers around the metal, and as cold as it was physically, it almost warmed her soul. “I’ll fight,” she promised, suddenly feeling more motivated than ever. To realize the sacrifices her adoptive parents must’ve made for a piece of necklace… She looked at Eliza for a second, and then turned to Alex. “I’ll fight. I’m not losing another home.”


	4. Survivor's Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! so, i know it's four chapters in and Kara and Mon-El still haven't met, but i felt like all this context was needed for the rest of the story to have more emotional impact...and i'm gonna stop there before i spoil anything lol :) BUTTTT they WILL be meeting the next chapter, which i'm extremely excited about, but until that...
> 
> hope you like this chapter!!!

Kara was playing with her necklace as she stared out the train’s window, watching the trees pass by in a green and brown blur. They were going so fast that it was impossible to see anything else anyway.

She could’ve been in the dining room, talking to her mentor now—Hank Henshaw, the winner of 35th Hunger Games. The _only_ winner from district 12, _ever_. Even that showed just how bad of a situation she was in.

The man was a good person, she had to admit. Despite having gone through something as vicious as Hunger Games, despite watching his tributes die every year, he was _hopeful._ Kara had no idea how he managed that, honestly.

_I know you believe you can’t win the Games right now. But that was what I thought in the beginning, too. You never know._

That was one of the first things he told her and the other tribute—a fourteen-year-old named Lance. Kara almost wanted to laugh— _almost,_ because laughing in that situation would not be the best idea. Hank didn’t know that she was invulnerable. He didn’t know she had superpowers. She was pretty sure, even if she did nothing but hide in the Games, she might win by default.

So how could she really look at Hank’s eyes, look at _Lance,_ while knowing she was unfairly overpowered? While knowing she’d _try_ to win, and with her powers, it wouldn’t even be hard? Even the thought of it was enough to make her sick.

So brooding while staring out the window it was.

At least until she was _rudely_ interrupted by someone knocking on her door. She thought about saying she was busy…but really, what was she busy with? Sitting and wallowing?

She sighed. “It’s open,” she said to whoever was behind the door as she pushed herself off of the windowsill and stood up. Hank entered the room promptly.

“Kara.” His voice was soft, too soft for someone who knew where they were going. Someone who knew she could be dead today next week—well, she probably wouldn’t be, but Hank didn’t know that. “You didn’t come to breakfast.”

“I wasn’t feeling hungry.” She forced a smile before making her way to the counter in her room and the coffee machine on it. The coffees here were different than the coffees on Krypton, she’d found yesterday. They didn’t have coffee in district 12, so when she discovered the coffee machine in this train—just the fact that everyone had their own coffee machine in their room showed how rich Capitol was—of course she’d prepared one for herself. Yet either caffeine on earth was much less strong than it was on Krypton, or her alien body burned it too quickly to be useful for her, because it didn’t help with anything. Now she mostly drank it out of habit.

“Coffee?” she asked Hank as she grabbed a cup for herself.

“No, I had a cup.” Kara just shrugged, making her way to the couch and plopping down.

“Suit yourself,” she said dismissively, hoping Hank would see from her posture that she didn’t want to talk. Yet he either didn’t, or he ignored it, because he was sitting across from her a couple of seconds later.

“I wanted to talk to you about the Games.” Only her manners kept Kara from snorting. She took a small sip from her coffee, looking out the window, keeping her mouth shut until Hank continued talking. “I know you’re feeling hopeless now, but you’ll see, sometimes not everything is as it seems.” This time, Kara couldn’t help laughing.

“Not everything is as it seems? Really?” She swung her legs down the couch to lean forward. “Are you trying to tell me that I won’t be going into a bloodbath, in which winning means everyone else’s death? Because _that_ is exactly what it sounds like to me.” She stared at Hank, waiting for him to come up with an answer to that. She expected something along the lines of how she didn’t have a choice and she should just suck it up, but instead, an understanding look crossed his eyes.

“I know,” he said with a small nod. “You’re going into exactly what you described, and there really is no good way out of this. But taking the bad way doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” Hank searched Kara’s face slowly, deliberately, as if he could see through Kara’s tough façade. “You seemed really close to your sister.”

Even the mention of Alex was enough to constrict Kara’s chest. She’d promised her that she’d fight to live, fight to _survive,_ but she hadn’t really thought what that meant in her emotional state. She didn’t know…it meant that everyone else would have to die.

“I am. I knew what I was signing up for when I volunteered.” She lifted her head to look at Hank. “I wasn’t planning on going back home.” Hank flinched visibly with those words, even as understanding shone in his eyes. “I made my peace with it.”

“You can’t give up just now, Kara. It’s too early.”

“I’ve made up my mind.” She stood up to move to the window, staring out the moving train once again. “Don’t try to change it.” She waited for Hank to leave before she even dared to move. She waited for the telltale footsteps, yet they came too late for her liking. And they didn’t move out of her room either, they moved towards _her._ Great.

“I heard that you were good at hunting. I heard you were good with weapons, but most of all… I’ve heard you loved your family. Kara, you have too much to fight for, and you have the means to do it. Don’t… Don’t forget that.” Kara gulped, pushing back her tears desperately, yet she didn’t answer. She just clenched her teeth, refusing to back down. She didn’t even want to admit just how much she wanted to live, and how right Hank was. Not when it meant the death of twenty-three children. She’d rather die with them than live with survivor’s guilt.

“We’ll talk again later.” Hank finally left after those words, leaving Kara alone. She finally felt a tear sliding down her cheek.

_I’m sorry, Alex,_ she thought, struggling to breathe. _I can’t do it. I can’t do it._

_I’m sorry._

* * *

_I heard that you were good at hunting._

Kara fiddled with her kryptonite bracelet as she sat on a cot in a room that looked a lot like hospital rooms in Krypton—albeit much darker and suffocating. The kryptonite had already weakened her powers enough that even her super-hearing was gone. But it had been necessary. She was forced to go through some sort of a beauty makeover, and those needles would never be able to penetrate her skin without the presence of kryptonite.

_You’ve always been a warrior, Kara. So fight._

And now she was waiting for her designer to come. The person who was supposed to make her beautiful in the carriage rides tonight. As if anything that came out of District 12 could be beautiful. She was supposed to wear something that represented her district, just as every other tribute wore clothes that represented _their_ district. Being coal miners, the tributes from district 12 wore mining clothes at best, went out covered in black powder to represent coal at worst. She…could only hope that it wouldn’t be the latter.

_Taking the bad way doesn’t mean you’re a bad person._

As if at the end it would matter for her to look beautiful. Not even all the glamor could make her forget where she was.

She slipped away from her thoughts when the door opened, dropping the bracelet. She didn’t even realize she was holding onto her necklace when her designer stepped in.

Kara’s first impression of the woman was that she looked way younger than Kara imagined she’d be. Her second impression was that she looked overly simple for a Capitol citizen. True, she had her black hair with pink streaks tied into a formal bun, and she was wearing a pink strapless dress that matched her pink-toned makeup and glittery pink heels—it might’ve sounded extreme, it was _nothing_ compared to other dresses she saw in Capitol.

The woman smiled as she stepped towards Kara, extending her hand. “Hi. I’m your designer, Lena Luthor, but you can just call me Lena.” Kara suspiciously arched her brow as she lifted her hand to shake Lena’s. She seemed nice…too nice, almost, compared to what Kara expected.

“Kara Danvers,” she said quietly. She anxiously ran her fingers through her hair as if that could make her look more beautiful, more presentable. She could see Lena’s eyes flickering on her already, assessing her, trying to decide what to design for her. Kara hoped that Lena’s smile widened because she was happy with what she saw.

“First of all, I want to say that I’m sorry that you’re here,” Lena started, erasing her smile to put on a serious expression. Kara arched her brow.

_Huh?_

“And I know at the end it won’t amount to much, but I hope that I can help you in any way that I can.” Kara searched the woman’s face to see if she was serious, or if this was some big cosmic joke that someone from _Capitol_ was actually acknowledging that being in the Hunger Games was nothing to congratulate. But Lena… She didn’t seem to be joking.

“You’re not just going to congratulate me for being _the chosen one_ or something?”

“I don’t believe in that,” Lena said quickly, moving to sit next to Kara and looking at her face. Kara’s throat tightened, and suddenly she wanted to embrace this woman that she didn’t even know just from the fact that she seemed to understand how horrible everything about this was. Even Hank Henshaw, who was _supposed_ to understand her the best, didn’t give her that feeling.

She stopped herself by clenching her fists and instead listened to Lena.

“So, there’s gonna be the chariot rides tonight. The first time you’ll be in front of the eyes of Panem since the reaping. We gotta make you look pretty, right?”

“Yeah, well, try making coal mining look beautiful,” Kara muttered under her breath, playing with the cloth they put on her that eerily looked like the hospital clothes from Krypton. Actually, this whole place reminded Kara of hospitals on Krypton. Ew. “Honestly, I’ll be fine with anything as long as I’m not naked and covered in black powder.”

Lena laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about that. And who says coal can’t be beautiful?” She slid forward on the cot to face Kara, moving Kara’s hair out of her face and letting the curls fall on her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure you’ve heard the widespread rumor that if you apply enough pressure on coal, it turns into diamond.” Kara nodded slowly, even though she had no idea where Lena was going with this. “But anyone with two brain cells would know that isn’t actually true. Most of the Capitol citizens, though… When it comes to Hunger Games, they don’t care about logic. They care about extravagance, pizzazz, beauty… And you, Kara, will have them all. We’ll make you glow like a diamond.” Lena smiled and offered Kara a small wink. Kara blinked several times before shaking her head.

“How?” She honestly hoped she wouldn’t be crushed under some external pressure to “turn the coal into diamond.” Lena just shrugged.

“Well, I have some ideas.”


	5. Diamonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like it :)

Kara could definitely confirm, as she stood in the preparation room for the chariot rides with all the other tributes, that Lena wasn’t kidding when she said she would make Kara shine. Well, she wasn’t _shining_ right now, per se, as her real dress was covered with a heavy black cloak, but once she unclasped the cape and revealed the gown inside…the gown with so many diamonds and tiny lights sewn on it that it reminded Kara of disco balls…she would shine like a literal diamond, this time with a light translucent glittery cape floating behind her instead of a black cloak. Coal…turning into diamond.

She couldn’t help reaching for her necklace from underneath her cloak, something familiar to tether her to reality when this whole thing went batshit crazy. A piece of her home. She twisted the glyph of House of El in such a way that it caught the light, too, reflecting it almost as brightly as the diamonds on her gown would. Or maybe it just felt that way to Kara, as the necklace was a literal beacon of light guiding her home, at least for her.

Whether home was District 12 with Alex and Eliza, or heaven with her birth parents.

“Where did you get that necklace?” She was so lost in her own thoughts—to the point of ignoring even her fellow tribute from District 12—that the voice managed to startle even _her,_ when she was supposed to have her _super-hearing_ now that she was away from kryptonite. She looked up at the guy standing in front of her. He seemed to be in what looked like a superhero suit that was a mixture of a modern armor and ancient Greek armor. She immediately knew what district he was from. District 2, Masonry.

She looked up from his clothes to his face, and vaguely familiar features greeted her. _He looks hot in a young, boyish way,_ she’d first thought when she saw him on screen, watching the reapings from other districts. Not that she’d focused on that thought a whole lot, as she had other things to worry about. But when he was standing literally in front of her, she could see that the lines of his face were more hardened than she’d initially thought, he sported a light stubble instead of a cleanly-shaven face, and his eyes were more blue than gray.

But more importantly than his appearance, the guy as staring at her necklace as if he saw a ghost. Kara dropped it immediately, as if his gaze somehow cursed it. “What?” she couldn’t help asking, feeling her heartbeat quicken. There was literally no way that this guy could know her necklace was a symbol from Krypton. She hadn’t told anyone about it other than Alex, Eliza, and Jeremiah, and only two of those people were alive now anyway. And she didn’t think there was anything that survived the explosion in Krypton—well, except her. The only way Mike could even have seen the symbol was if he was an alien, too. If he was a Kryptonian.

She quickly dismissed that thought as fearfully ludicrous—or dangerously wishful—as she waited for Mike to say something.

“The necklace,” he repeated, pointing at the symbol dangling over her cloak. Kara fought the urge to tuck it inside her cloak. That would make her seem overly suspicious, and that was the last thing she needed. “Where did you get it?”

Kara’s first instinct to the question was to lie. Say that her parents found it somewhere or…or something. There was _no way_ she was telling this stranger about her alien identity. But then…another thought occurred to her. Who gave this guy the right to question her about her necklace anyway?

She defensively crossed her arms over her chest. “What is it to you?” Mike arched his brows with her answer, his face tightening with anger. He crossed his arms as well.

“I just asked a question. You don’t need to get all defensive.”

“Well, when you suddenly appear in front of me and _cross-examine_ me as if I’m some sort of a criminal, _of course_ I’ll get defensive.”

“I wanted to know about your necklace, _that’s it.”_

“And I’m asking _why_ you want to know about it. I think I have that right.” She straightened up her shoulders, refusing to back down to a damn career tribute. Who did he think he was anyway?

 _Could he really be an alien, though?_ her brain asked her before she could help herself. _You know what that means if he is. You won’t have to be alone anymore—_

She stopped that train of thought before it went too far. She was the only survivor from Krypton. She was sure of it. There was _no point_ in being hopeful.

She refocused on Mike when she heard him sigh and drop his arms to his sides. “I was just wondering whether it meant something. Not everyone wears an S on their chest for no reason, and I’m pretty sure your name is Kara and _that_ doesn’t start with an S, so I wanted to ask. I hope that’s not a crime.” It seemed like his face had softened, too, in a way you wouldn’t expect from a career tribute, so much so that Kara couldn’t find it in her to retort. Besides, she was worried that acting all secretive about her necklace might prompt the guy to get even more suspicious of her than answering…with a little white lie. What did people say? A little lie hidden in the coat of truth never hurt anyone.

“My parents gave it to me,” she confessed finally, her hand going up to her chest. “They apparently found it on the ground or something, but ever since then it symbolized hope for them. They told me that as long as I had this with me…I’d be safe. They’d be with me.” She felt tears filling her eyes, and she had to stare at the ceiling for a couple of seconds to get rid of them. Damn. It had been nine years, and she still got all teary-eyed thinking about her parents and about Krypton.

When she looked back at Mike, she saw a slight emotion passing through his eyes, yet he put on a blank face so quickly that she wasn’t sure whether she was seeing things or not. He nodded. “Well, I guess anyone here could use a little bit of hope.” Kara reached to her chest to take the necklace between her fingers, nodding slowly as she watched him. He seemed…genuine, as if he honestly didn’t know about the symbol on the necklace, and he was satisfied with the answer she gave him.

At least she wanted to interpret his lack of expression as that, because the alternative was too good and too scary to be true at the same time.

* * *

Even as the chariot rides started, and his—and Samantha’s—carriage took them down the path beneath an audience of hundreds of Capitol citizens, there was one thing on Mon-El’s mind. Sure, physically he might be smiling, he might be waving at people, he might’ve even winked at an overly enthusiastic blue-haired woman, but mentally he was thinking about Kara Danvers, the female tribute from District 12.

The tribute…wearing the glyph of House of El from _Krypton. The_ Krypton, the one that was Daxam’s sister planet, whose destruction destroyed his planet. It was impossible—it should’ve been impossible—yet there she was, sporting the symbol from a dead planet as if it was nothing.

 _It symbolized hope for them…_ If Mon-El wasn’t wrong—and he didn’t think he was, because Daxam’s education system tended to teach you in a way that made it impossible for you to forget anything—the glyph of House of El _represented_ hope on Krypton. And he was also pretty sure that the Els had a daughter named Kara. As the prince, he had to take a class called Interplanetary Knowledge, where they studied the ruling families of every planet, and House of El from Krypton was one of them. Granted, there was a chance that Kara was human, she’d merely guessed what the symbol meant and got it right, and her name just happened to match the daughter of Els, but she seemed like she _knew_ what she was talking about, and anyway, it all fit together too uncannily well to be a mere coincidence.

 _Can it be…_ he couldn’t help thinking—hoping, really—as he reached the end of the runway and looked back. And there it was, right at the back: the carriage of District 12 carrying Kara and the male tribute from District 12. They had their cloaks on at first, heavy, black cloaks that didn’t reveal anything, but halfway through the runway, with one move they both removed the cloaks…and Mon-El could hear the _whole audience_ gasp collectively. Because underneath those cloaks… They had silver shiny outfits, looking like they were made entirely out of diamonds. _Kara_ looked like she was a diamond, with the bright but cutting smile on her face, with her flowing and shiny cape on her back contrasting with the hard lines of her dress, with her hair dancing with the soft breeze passing through it. She looked absolutely beautiful.

And Mon-El couldn’t help it as an image appeared in front of his eyes. The image of a young girl, about seven years old, visiting his palace on Daxam with her parents, who were there for some sort of a business meeting. The daughter of Els, _Kara Zor-El,_ with the same blonde hair and blue eyes that Kara Danvers had, whom he’d spent the whole day playing with then while their parents had their meeting. He’d wondered why Kara had looked so familiar to him when he first saw her, but now, as he put all the pieces together, he had his answer. Kara Danvers, the tribute from District 12, the one wearing a gown with diamonds as her carriage walked down the runway, was Kara Zor-El of Krypton.

His heart stuttered with something like hope at the realization that after all those years, he might not be the lone survivor of the two planets. He might have someone to understand him.

Now he just needed to see if he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo Kara and Mon-El's first meeting! what do you guys think? let me know in the comments!
> 
> love y'all :)


	6. Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like this chapter :)

Kara’s stomach was churning as she sat down on the breakfast table. It was the first day of the trainings, which she would be going to less than an hour, and it would be an understatement to say that she was nervous. Not that she didn’t know anything about fighting—she _knew_ —or she thought she wouldn’t perform well—if she tried, she could beat each career tribute there, even if all of them attacked together. She was nervous of seeing one certain tribute: Mike.

She barely slept the previous night, thinking about how Mike could’ve known about her necklace. It was possible that he was just curious and he actually didn’t know anything, but the paranoid part of her doubted that. And if he knew, would he tell the authorities that she was an alien? Would he tell Capitol? Not being sure drove her crazy. But even more than that, she didn’t even know what she should do if Mike truly knew. Should she confront him about it, or should she stay away, hoping he would keep his mouth shut?

It was no wonder she couldn’t sleep. She was glad for the yellow sun that allowed her to function with minimal sleep, or she’d be dying now.

She was _also_ glad that despite the churning in her stomach, she still felt hungry, because she needed energy for training and she was pretty sure after breakfast she wouldn’t have time to eat until lunch.

“Kara.” She slipped away from her thoughts with Hank’s voice.

“Hmm?”

“You weren’t listening to _anything_ I was saying, right?” Cat Grant giggled with that question, and Kara promptly chose to ignore her as she shook her head.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about…something.” She popped in a piece of omelet into her mouth. “What were we talking about?”

“The choice of weapons. I was asking what you were most comfortable using.” A weight fell on Kara. Talking about weapons made the situation all the more real, and she didn’t want to think about that when the Games was still days away. She could spend a bit more time in food and richness paradise.

“Knives,” she answered with a sigh, and to prove her point she spun the butter knife in her hand before she threw it to the wall across from her. It hit a painting right in the middle—where she’d planned—and she felt the slight satisfaction of destroying some Capitol property.

“Kara!” she heard Cat scold her, yet she ignored the woman again as she continued.

“Archery. I’m also good with axes and spears, but they wouldn’t be my top choice. And I can hold my ground in a hand-to-hand combat.” She realized that the whole room went silent when she finished. She lifted her head to look at the people around her. Hank looked impressed, Cat looked suspiciously hopeful, Lena was smiling, and Lance looked paper-white. She suddenly felt uncomfortable and felt the need to explain. “What? Jere—I mean, my father was good with weapons. He taught me how to use them.” Which was the truth. Jeremiah wanted Alex and Kara to be able to both hunt and fight in case he died and they needed food, or they were chosen for the Games.

Hank was the first to say anything. “That’s great, Kara. But be careful—“

“With my skills, I know. Don’t wanna make myself a target to the careers.” She remembered Alex talking about a tribute that acted weak the whole game until only a few tributes were left alive, and then basically slaughtered them to be the winner. By not making herself a target, she managed to stay off everyone’s radar. “Besides, I think I can work on my survival skills.” She’d thought about it the previous night. Yes, she knew that she couldn’t avoid killing if she wanted to win, but she could avoid it as much as possible by laying low. She could at least _try._

“That’s great… What about you, Lance?” This time, Hank turned to the other, 14-year-old tribute. The guy seemed to have paled even more in the last couple of minutes. “Do you have any skills?”

Lance opened his mouth. “I… I don’t…” he whispered, and even from his eyes Kara could see what he was trying to say. Of course he wouldn’t have any skills. Where could he have worked with any weapons anyway? Who would’ve taught him in District 12? Alex and her had just been lucky to have Jeremiah, otherwise, Kara was sure she wouldn’t be able to use any weapon either.

Lance pushed away his plate before answering the question, jumping to his feet. “I don’t know anything,” he could only whisper before rushing out of the room.

Kara’s heart squeezed in her chest as she watched him run, and she knew that she couldn’t just let him suffer like that, desperate and alone. She couldn’t help thinking that there was no way he could win, but that didn’t mean he had to be helpless through it all.

She quickly wiped her hands before pushing herself up to her feet. “Excuse me, I think I forgot something in my room,” she lied before she quickly walked after Lance. She tucked her hair behind her ears to focus her super-hearing.

And the first thing she heard was a vomiting sound. She scrunched up her nose. “Okay, that’s just disgusting,” she muttered to herself as she made her way to the bathroom. As someone who never vomited—she never even _got_ sick—the prospect of it just felt _sickening_ to her, no pun intended. Yet she still pushed through her disgust, breathed through her mouth, and walked into the bathroom. She saw Lance knelt in front of the toilet, holding onto it as if it was his lifeline. He lifted his head when he heard the door being closed.

He snorted when he realized it was Kara. “You didn’t have to come,” he whispered, turning around to lean his back against the toilet. Kara just smiled at him.

“I wanted to.” She reached for the sink and filled the cup next to her with water, and wetted a towel to hand them to Lance. He was eyeing her suspiciously as he took them. “Tributes from loser districts have to stick together, right?” He gulped down the water quickly.

“You’re anything but a loser,” he muttered as he sat the cup to the side. “You’re the perfect tribute. _I’m_ the loser one. I’m the one that’s going to die the first day, slaughtered by one of those career tributes.”

“Probably.” Kara shrugged, ignoring Lance’s glare as she sat down next to him. “And I’ll die the next week, because my skills can’t match up to a tribute’s who worked their whole life for this.” Actually, she probably wouldn’t die, what with her superpowers and all, but Lance didn’t need to know that. He needed someone to support him, to comfort him, even if it was with lies. He was going to die anyway; he could at least be peaceful in his last few days.

“You’re…probably right,” Lance agreed with a nod, huffing out a short breath.

“Yeah, but that’s not what matters.” Kara leaned forward with those words, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. He looked at her curiously. “You may not survive; in fact, you probably won’t survive, but that doesn’t mean you have to let them belittle you. You may be scared as hell, God knows I am, but as long as they don’t know it, they can’t truly beat you. So don’t be scared. Don’t give them a reason to ruin you.” _Sometimes, going down with dignity is all you can do._

Lance stared at her for a couple of seconds before nodding with a gulp. “You’re right. As long as I don’t let them, they can’t get to me.” He looked at Kara. “Thank you for…for that. I really needed that.”

Kara offered him a small smile. “No problem.”

* * *

“From the bottom to the top, then to the middle and tie the knot.” Kara absentmindedly mumbled the melody that Jeremiah taught her and Alex while teaching them how to build a trap. Technically, she knew how to do it, she still remembered Jeremiah’s words, yet Alex was the “trap builder” between the two of them…when they built traps. With her super-speed and strength, they didn’t need that.

Yet she doubted she’d be able to use those in the arena. She needed all the skills she could gather, so she thought she could practice building the trap.

She tested the strength of the knot in her hand before moving to the box with tree sticks. She grabbed three of them and took the small knife out of her pocket to shape them in the way she liked. The trap was coming better than she hoped it would.

“Top sides kept together, the bottom apart, tie to the tree and bait your hunt.” She tested the strength of the trap before moving it to the tree…until a voice interrupted her.

“What’s that melody?” She was so startled that she forgot to keep her strength in reign, breaking the trap in her hands. She spun around to find _Mike_ standing behind her, a couple of sticks and a rope in her hand. He arched his brow at her—now broken—trap.

It took all of Kara’s will not to just squeeze her hands into fists and destroy the sticks. Now _that_ would seem utterly suspicious.

“None of your business,” she retorted as she discarded the broken trap to the side, moving to get new supplies. She wasn’t letting another tribute, a career tribute no less, get under her skin. No matter how _suspicious_ that tribute was.

Yet Mike was more insistent than she’d hoped for.

“There’s no need to be dismissive to _everyone,_ Kara,” he said, following her. “You know there’s a thing called _alliances.”_ She snorted. Yeah, an alliance with a _career tribute,_ who’d stab her in the back whenever it suited him. No, thanks.

“I’m not being dismissive to anyone,” she objected, going back to her spot to build her trap. She could _hear_ that Mike was standing right next to him, yet she didn’t even turn to him as she continued. “I’m just being dismissive to a career tribute who thinks the Games is some sort of glory, and I’m not looking to make an alliance with anyone who eventually will have to kill me, and do it gladly— _keep your hands off me.”_ She spun around to face him when she felt his hand on his shoulder. With her anger, she didn’t even _realize_ that she could actually _feel_ his grip when she shouldn’t. Her super-strength and invincible skin prevented her to feel anything more than a soft breeze when a human touched her.

Mike narrowed his eyes to her. “You are certainly quick to make claims about someone you don’t even know,” he said, causing her to arch her brows. She laughed humorlessly.

“Yeah, I think I can make claims when it comes to a career tribute.” She was ready to turn around and continue ignoring him when his words froze her in place.

“Winn was my best friend.” _Winn…_ as in the tribute that was chosen before Mike volunteered. “I didn’t volunteer because I wanted honor or glory, I volunteered to save his life.” He stepped forward, getting into her personal space, so much so that she had to hold her breath. Her heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t even move away. She could only watch as he lifted his hand with the sticks and squeezed…and in a second all three sticks were broken, the pieces dropped on the ground.

Kara couldn’t help gasping. There was only one way he could do that, and that was if he had super-strength. Which could mean…

He moved his now-empty hand to her wrist and squeezed, enough that Kara felt it, in a way that she shouldn’t. She saw a flicker of hope twinkle in his eyes as the truth dawned on her. He was an alien. Mike…was an _alien_.

“From the bottom to the top, then to the middle and tie the knot. Top sides kept together, the bottom apart, tie to the tree and bait your hunt.” He spoke so quietly that Kara only heard him with her super-hearing, and the melody froze her blood. It was a confirmation of what she already realized, another proof that he was an alien, because there was no way he could hear that quiet melody if he didn’t have super-hearing.

He moved away after that, stepping out of the knot-tying area, and all Kara could do was to stare after him, knowing the encounter had changed everything forever. Had changed… _her…_ forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo things are getting serious! mon-el and kara know about each other!!! it might be a bit early for that in the story, but i didn't want to just make it a "thing" between them that they need to hide, and i think it'll be really fun to see them trying to keep their identities secret together :) i'm actually really excited for their interactions from now on :)
> 
> also, if you have any questions about this story or any other story, you can find me on tumblr at @busysciencegeek :)
> 
> love ya!


	7. Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, first of all, i wanted to fix a little mistake that i realized i made in the previous chapters. i realized that i've forgotten i changed Mon-El's official name (like, his human name, the name he uses in the Games) to Mike, and i've called him Mon-El. i fixed that in the previous chapters, and that is why he is called Mike in this chapter as well. but i'm so used to calling Mon-El by his name that if i make that same mistake again, please let me know :)
> 
> anyway, now that i've gotten that off my chest, i hope you like this chapter!

Taking her lunch tray to the dining room, Kara looked at the empty seats around her. She saw that alliances had already begun to form. Tributes from the same districts mostly sat together, but she saw that there were also groups, one of them being the careers—minus Mike, she couldn’t help noticing—and a group of other tributes from several districts. In fact, the only people sitting alone were Lance… _and Mike._

Her brain was screaming at her to go sit with Lance. He was the other tribute from District 12, and he wasn’t particularly annoying or anything. In any other situation, they could’ve even been friends. Her heart, though… It was pulling her towards Mike. She still couldn’t forget what happened that morning. What Mike revealed to her… He was an _alien._ Not only that, he also knew that _she_ was an alien. The question about her necklace made sense now. He knew that symbol, and that was why he asked about it. He was an _alien._

It was scary. It _should’ve been_ scary. Yet all she could think about was that she wasn’t alone on earth. Somehow, someone else survived the blast of Krypton. There was someone she could talk to, someone who would understand all her troubles. She wouldn’t have to be all alone anymore.

Somehow, that feeling was even scarier than someone else knowing her alien identity. Yet still, instead of Lance’s direction, her feet led her next to Mike. She set down her tray across from him and sat down.

He didn’t say anything, but she could see that he was watching her, his hand frozen midair. She gathered the courage to look at him. “You’re an alien.” Her whisper was quiet, so quiet that he wouldn’t be able to hear her if he wasn’t an alien. Her ears weren’t catching any electrical buzz that would indicate there were cameras in the dining room, yet she could never be too sure.

Mike nodded curtly as an answer, searching her eyes. “How?” she asked when he didn’t say anything. He put his fork down before answering.

“My parents put me in a pod before my planet destroyed.”

“Krypton?”

“Daxam.” He lifted his eyes almost fearfully to look at her. “I’m Mon-El of Daxam.” _Daxam._ The memories of the planet filled Kara’s mind. She might’ve just been eight when she left Krypton, yet she remembered what everyone said about Daxam. Hedonists. Partiers. All in all, not good people. And Mon-El… From where did she remember that name? “I am… I _used to be_ the prince,” he explained when he must’ve seen the confused look on her face. Kara blinked. The prince—

The image of a young, six-year-old boy appeared in her mind. She only remembered now. She’d visited Daxam _once_ in her life, when her parents had to meet with the King and Queen for some business deal or something. They couldn’t find anyone to leave her with, and they wanted her to get familiar with other planets anyway, so they’d taken her with them, only warning her to be careful. She’d spent the whole day with the Prince—with _Mon-El,_ whom she clearly remembered thinking was nothing like how her parents described him. He wasn’t the image of the Daxamite her parents painted in her mind. He was nice, sharing, kind, and he’d accommodated her like she was his friend. She remembered having fun that day. She didn’t remember what they did, but she remembered having fun.

_“You’re_ him?”

“Who?”

“The… The prince I spent a day with when I was six. I remember going to Daxam and—“ She saw Mon-El’s eyes light up with that. He nodded enthusiastically.

“And your parents left us together to spend some time while they did their business.”

“Yeah! We’d played in your garden…” Kara couldn’t help laughing at the coincidence as she leaned back on her chair. She saw that Mon-El had an amused look on his face. “Wow, now I feel horrible for not recognizing you before you recognized me.” Mon-El smiled at her.

“Well, you did have the glyph of House of El as a necklace.” Kara’s hand went up to the necklace, which was now tucked inside her clothes. “I just put the pieces together.” She couldn’t help laughing and nodding at that. If she could, she would hug him right now, but that would seem utterly suspicious. She couldn’t let anyone know that she and Mon-El had something going on. When you had a secret, suspicion was your worst enemy.

“I can’t believe it,” she just opted to whisper. “I thought I was alone all this time, and now…” The relief she felt was reflected in his eyes. He nodded, reaching forward to briefly touch his fingers to hers. It was so brief that nobody would be able to notice it, yet Kara shivered at just the fact that she was _able_ to feel that touch.

“I just have so many things I want to say,” he confessed, looking up at her eyes. “About Daxam, about Krypton… To someone who’d understand me…”

“Yeah. I just… I even missed touching someone without worrying about hurting them.” Mon-El laughed at that, a real, genuinely happy laugh. He nodded, and when he said that he understood her, Kara believed it for once. Alex and Eliza told her that they knew how hard it must be to have the powers she had as well, but they never had those powers. Mon-El did. Mon-El actually _knew_ what it felt like.

“I broke my best friend’s wrist the day I met him,” he said, making Kara chuckle, “and I was just holding his hand. I though I was being _soft_.”

“I almost burned down my house using my heat vision. I was just trying to cook some meat because we didn’t have heat that day.”

“You have _heat vision?”_

“If you call shooting lasers from your eyes _heat vision._ That’s what my sister called it because the only thing I used it was to cook meals.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “You don’t have heat vision?”

“I think I would’ve known if I could shoot lasers from my eyes.” He shook his head. “That would’ve been cool.”

“Trust me, it isn’t cool,” Kara snorted. She had a whole lot of trouble with that heat vision of hers. “I can also fly, though. That is cool. Even though I can barely use it since a flying girl would cause waaaay too much suspicion.”

“Yeah, I do usually only float in my room.” Kara almost spurted out her water with that comment. She shook her head.

“I guess that would work,” she muttered, earning a smile from Mon-El. A smile that fluttered her heart. Not with fear, though, with relief. Relief of finding someone that she could relate to, that would understand her. She felt the walls around her slowly crumble as she relaxed her shoulders. For the first time since she came here, she felt hopeful. Happy. “It also helps that the only thing that can penetrate my skin is rocks from Krypton, which are pretty rare on earth, I have to say.” She saw Mon-El narrowing his eyes playfully at her. “What?”

“It seems like only Kryptonians got the lucky I’m-completely-invincible genes, leaving the Daxamites being vulnerable to lead. You know, the material which is in basically every single weapon on earth.”

_“Lead?”_ Kara asked, arching her brow. She couldn’t help laughing when Mon-El nodded. “That is…unfortunate.”

“Well, you seem to be excited about the idea. You’re not planning to use my only vulnerability against me and stab me in the back, are you?”

“What? No!” She scowled at him. “Why would I do that?” She’d _just_ gotten him. She never wanted to lose him yet— _ever_ —especially not to death—

The situation hit her only then. Her survival meant…Mon-El’s death. She’d have him, have a person who’d understand her…only to lose him immediately, if she even survived. She could see that Mon-El was talking, yet those thoughts had hit her so suddenly that her ears were buzzing and she couldn’t hear him. She’d lose him. At the end of this, she’d lose him, if they both didn’t die. They would never make it out of here alive. Not together, at least.

“Kara?” She was pulled away from her thoughts with Mon-El’s voice. “Are you okay? Your heart rate just spiked, and you look pale.” _I’m not,_ she thought desperately. _I just found you, I just found someone, and I have to lose you._ She cursed at the universe, at whatever God was up there, for this. For meeting Mon-El in this situation.

“I can’t do this,” she suddenly said, pushing her chair back and standing up. Mon-El hastily stood up after her, holding her elbow to stop her before she could walk away.

“Kara, what—what are you talking about? We just found each other—“

“And only one of us will be walking out of here alive,” she finished his sentence. “We found each other to lose each other. I can’t go through that again.” She saw Mon-El’s eyes crumble in front of her; enough of an indication for her to see that he understood what she meant. She’d already lost Krypton once, she couldn’t lose a part of that again.

He let her walk away from him, only watching as she discarded her barely eaten food and walked out of the dining room. But there were two more eyes watching them that no one else noticed: The eyes of Samantha Arias.

* * *

_These damn plants,_ Kara thought as she cluelessly stared at the screen in front of her. In the afternoon, she again tried to stay away from the weapons’ stations, instead opting to test her knowledge about edible plants and insects. Which…she seemed to suck. There were a couple she managed to identify immediately, as they were so pervasive in District 12 that if you _didn’t_ know which were poisonous, you’d very likely die. The others, though…

_Would I even_ die _if I swallow poison?_ she thought as she classified a berry-looking plant called Nightlock under the poisonous section. She smiled when the screen flashed green, indicating that she’d been right.

“Well, it seems like I’m not as horrible at this as I thought I was.” She classified another plant under the non-poisonous section, getting it right again. She was just smiling with pride, looking at the screen in front of her, when she heard footsteps approaching the station. Intentional footsteps, coming _right at her._

She spun around to face who it was at the same time someone punched the screen to turn it off. Her hands in the front, Kara came face to face with two hazel eyes and dark brown hair tied into a tight braid. The girl was smiling at her as she leaned over the screen. “Oops. It seems like I accidentally turned it off.”

_“Samantha,”_ Kara hissed, finally recognizing the tribute. The girl from District 2, whom everyone said was vicious and cold-blooded, and many people predicted that she would be the winner. How nice.

“Kara Danvers. You know, you are considerably beautiful and clean for someone from District 12.” She lifted her hand to reach for Kara’s hair, but she pulled back quickly. She wanted to step back and walk away, but she was worried Samantha might try to do something if she did that. The last thing she needed was a fight.

“What do you want, Samantha?” she asked instead of retorting. Samantha just smiled at her exasperated attitude, crossing her arms over her chest. Despite her smile, anger was shining in her eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I don’t think you can give me anything I don’t have right now. I just came here to warn you.” Kara didn’t say anything other than sliding back slightly. “You need to stay away from Mike.”

The tone of her voice made Kara’s blood go cold. Yet she didn’t back down—she couldn’t, unless she wanted to seem utterly helpless.

“Why do you care?” she asked, straightening up her shoulders. “You’re going to kill him at the end, aren’t you?” Samantha just chuckled.

“Oh, I will. Trust me. He’s not the one I’m afraid of. It’s what he might do for _you_.” Kara arched her brow. _What?_ “I saw the way he looks at you. I don’t know how you did it, Twelve, but you somehow got him in that little net of yours in a matter of _days_. And people fighting for someone else are always more dangerous than people fighting for themselves.” Samantha’s smile slipped off her face as she stepped forward, getting all up into Kara’s personal space. Kara had no choice but to back out. “Stay away from Mike, or else I’ll make sure you die before you can bewitch him more.”

Kara wanted to say that she didn’t do anything, she wanted to say there was _nothing_ between her and Mon-El, yet the words didn’t leave her mouth. Before she could say anything anyway, someone barged in front of her, pushing Samantha away.

“If I were you, Samantha,” she heard Mon-El say. It took Kara a second to realize that it was him that stood between her and Samantha. “I’d be the one staying away from Kara.” The coldness in his voice made even Kara shiver, yet Samantha didn’t even seem fazed. She just laughed and stepped back, giving Kara a meaningful, knowing look. A look that said, _don’t forget what I told you. I don’t make empty threats._

And then she walked away without another word.

Mon-El turned to her then. “Mike,” she whispered, ready to tell him that she didn’t need his protection—and him protecting her wasn’t a good idea anyway—yet he stopped her before she could get far.

“The terrace,” he whispered in a voice only she could hear. “Tonight. Midnight.”

“Mike, I… I don’t think that’s a good—“

“Please, Kara,” he begged. “ _Please_.”

She couldn’t help nodding after a second of hesitation, despite feeling like she might regret that decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo we've gotten some more interaction between Kara and Mon-El...at least until reality set in lol. i know many of you have been looking for them to team up and deal with the whole Games thingy together, and trust me that would be a dream come true, but unfortunately things won't be that easy. it's going to get a bit more intense before it gets better ;)
> 
> but trust me, it will get better ;)
> 
> p.s.   
> if you have any questions or comments, you can also reach me through my tumblr, @busysciencegeek. i might not post a lot, but it do check it daily, so you don't have to worry about me missing your comments ;)


	8. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like this!

When Kara walked out onto the terrace five minutes after midnight, she saw that Mon-El was already there, staring out into the Capitol. One would assume that the city would be asleep this late, but the lights were still on and shining so brightly that it made it almost impossible to see the stars.

Somehow, she didn’t enjoy it as much as she thought she would. While the lights were beautiful, they also seemed overwhelming, and a part of her missed the silence and darkness of District 12, where you could make out every single star in the sky. It was relaxing.

“You know, I haven’t realized just how ridiculously cheap all those lights on Daxam looked until now, after seeing Capitol.” She slipped away from her thoughts with Mon-El’s words and looked at him. He must’ve heard her come with his super-hearing, no matter how quiet she tried to be. She gave up on stealthing her way to his side and instead just walked up to him.

“Daxam looked like _this?”_ she couldn’t help asking, looking at the rainbow of colors and lights coming from Capitol. It looked so _tasteless_ that it was ridiculous. Though, if she thought about it, everything Capitol did was tasteless. Hunger Games was the perfect example of that.

Mon-El chuckled at her comment and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. There, the more extravagant everything was, the more people liked it. Now it just makes me think whether we were as bad on Daxam as Capitol is.” Something cracked in Kara’s heart when she saw the broken look on his face. Despite all her reservations, she found herself stepping forward to look at his face.

“Mon-El, whatever Daxam did wasn’t your fault. You were just seven when you…when you left.” She didn’t have it in her to say that Daxam was destroyed. He took a deep breath before he nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. And we at least didn’t send children to kill each other.”

“That’s true. Now _that_ would be tasteless.” He offered her a smile with that, and she couldn’t help thinking just how easy it was to talk to Mon-El. About Krypton, about Daxam, about anything. She just felt…free to talk. Not that she never talked to her sister and Eliza about Krypton, but it was always so heartbreaking to see the unknowing look in their eyes that she stopped after some time. With Mon-El, though… Whatever she told him about Krypton, he’d not only understand her, he’d also _know_ what she was trying to say. He could _relate_ to her, and that was such a good feeling that she felt herself getting drawn to him.

She stepped away from him as if physical distance could stop that feeling. “Mon-El…” she started, before quickly correcting herself. “Mike.” Maybe using his human name would make her feel less close to him. But before she could continue he interrupted her.

“Please call me Mon-El.” She arched her brow at his desperation. “That’s… That’s the only thing I have left that ties me to Daxam. I just… Everyone else is already calling me Mike. I miss hearing my real name.”

A part of her wanted to reject that, yet seeing his helplessness, she couldn’t. “Mon-El…”

“We don’t have to stay away from each other,” he said, before she could even voice her thoughts. She just stared at him, heartbreak written all over her face. She just felt something crack inside her chest when she saw the pain in his eyes. “I know that’s what you were going to say. But we don’t have to stay away from each other.”

“We both can’t survive the Games, Mon-El.”

“I know that.” He turned to her, putting his hands on her arms. Kara didn’t know whether he did that just to get her attention or he just needed to _feel_ her touch, as he squeezed her arms in a way that would break a human’s bones. “I know that, Kara. But that end is still weeks away. We can still spend time together until that time comes—“

“No, we can’t.” She stepped away and turned around, not wanting to face his hurt expression anymore. “If we spend time together, if we become friends, it’s only going to hurt more when one of us dies.”

“But wouldn’t it be worth it to be with someone who understands you? Because Kara… I’ve never had that. Ever.” He stopped for a second, and Kara felt tears filling her eyes. _I know,_ she wanted to say, yet the words just didn’t leave her mouth. Admitting that would mean making herself vulnerable, it would mean that she wanted to be friends with him just as much as he wanted to be friends with her, and she…she didn’t know whether she could stay away from him once that reality set in.

“So what? We become friends, we work together, form an alliance, whatever, only to lose each other in the end?”

“Isn’t that better than never having each other?” She felt his hand brushing her elbow lightly. “Kara, those five minutes we spent together today were the only time in the last nine years that I didn’t feel alone.”

“It hurt too much when I lost Krypton, Mon-El,” she tried to say with a whisper, finally gathering enough courage to turn around and face him. She couldn’t help reaching up to stroke his arm. It felt so good—too good, almost—to not have to control her strength, to know she couldn’t break him no matter what. “I can’t lose someone else. I can’t survive it.” _If the Games won’t kill me, that certainly will._

“Isn’t it better to have something and lose it rather than not have it at all?” he tried to argue. He certainly wasn’t one to give up. “Because I’d rather spend time with you, even if it meant I’d have to lose you at the end.”

“Risking the pain you’d have to go through?”

“Risking _everything_.” He didn’t even hesitate as he said those words, so much so that the wall Kara so desperately tried to build between them took a destructive hit. She felt it crumbling, especially as his hand moved up her arm to her shoulder. She knew if she let this continue for one more second, she’d give in. She’d let him in, only to…

She quickly pushed him away and stepped back. “Well, I can’t risk that, okay?” she spat out harshly, wrapping her arms around herself, as if a physical barrier between them would help her keep the distance far. The blue of his eyes cracked with those words. “I can’t risk getting hurt. I’m not living in a prosperous district like you; if I win, I won’t be returning to riches. I’ll still have to provide for my family, I’ll still have to take care of them, and I can’t have any weight on my shoulders. The loss of Krypton is heavy enough.” She’d said the words without thinking, without consideration, her anger and fear getting the better of herself. A part of her knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to lose her either, but that thought only caught up to her later. When she saw anger flare inside Mon-El’s eyes.

“You think it’ll be easy for me to lose you?” he hissed, spreading his arms. “I’m all alone, Kara. You have a family that cares about you; I don’t even _have_ that. I don’t have anyone that I can lean on when I need it.”

“What about Winn?” she couldn’t help asking, remembering his friend’s name. His shoulders slumped as a soft look appeared on his face.

“Everybody needs someone,” he said with a shrug. “But you know it’s not the same. No matter how many people you have, it’s not the same.” Kara’s heart crumbled in her chest.

“And that’s exactly why we can’t be friends, Mon-El.” _When I lose you, I’ll never get that understanding back, and I can’t live with that._ She looked at him for a couple of seconds before turning around to leave the terrace. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. She didn’t even want to acknowledge them. She just… She just wished that today never happened. That…none of this happened.

“What if we ran away?” She froze in her place with his words, her heart stuttering in her chest. _Running away…_ “You know we can do it,” he continued, not letting her object. “We can get through the defenses, we can take down the Peacekeepers… They wouldn’t be able to catch us, Kara. You know that. We don’t have to die. We don’t even have to attend the Games.”

_Yes,_ a part of her heart screamed as an answer to that. She wanted to say yes too badly. It sounded… It sounded too much like a dream come true. And they could do it. That was maybe the best…and the worst part. It would be too easy. Their combined strength and invincibility would be no match for even hundreds of Peacekeepers. They could run away and out of Panem, and they could live together. She would have a part of her home, part of Krypton with her. She wouldn’t have to feel alone anymore.

But just as it was true with any dream, it came with a price. Her disappearance meant her family’s doom. Peacekeepers were certain to come after Alex and Eliza and punish _them_ for what she did, and she couldn’t have that. She could risk everything in life, but she couldn’t risk Alex and Eliza.

“If I run, they’ll kill my family,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t be the reason of their death.” She felt one tear slip down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, waiting for Mon-El to say something. Anything, really. Yet she didn’t turn to him, afraid that she’d break down if she did. She’d let her walls down and go along with his plan, screwing everything else.

“Then… Then you know my weakness, Kara.” His next words were so quiet that she wouldn’t be able to hear without her super-hearing. “You know how to kill me.” He stopped for a second. “I won’t fight back if you try.”

Kara’s heart shattered in her chest with those words. She could barely get out of the terrace before she broke down in sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have any questions/comments, you can message me on my Tumblr, @busysciencegeek :)
> 
> love ya!


	9. Kryptonite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello y'all!
> 
> so, i'm really sorry this chapter took me too damn long to post, but i hit a bit of a writing block about halfway through and had to literally force the words out. so if this feels kind of rushed or like a filler chapter, i'm really sorry, because...well, honestly, it is kind of a filler chapter until the REAL fun starts (and by that i mean we finally get to the Games - not that i'm looking forward to child murder or anything.....i'm gonna shut up now)
> 
> anyway, i hope you still like this!

Kara’s body felt taut as hell as she stared at the mirror, moving her hands over her gown. _Lena really is going all over this diamond thing,_ she couldn’t help thinking. Her dress was…heavy, with a mix of silver chains, mirrors, and diamonds, making her glow whenever any light touched the garment. It was also dangerous, with the sharp edges of mirrors and diamonds…for a human. For Kara, she would break the dress first before the dress cut her.

Not that that was at the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t care less about the Hunger Games, or anything that related to it—well, other than the fact that it was a literal life-or-death situation. The private sessions with the Gamemakers were done—Kara had gotten a 10 by throwing a bunch of knives and arrows everywhere, while she also didn’t miss Mon-El getting a 9—she had that horrifying coaching session for today’s televised interviews with James Olsen—she didn’t need coaching to know she needed to impress people, and if she needed a _teacher_ for that, it was already a lost cause and a day of training wouldn’t change anything—and now, today, in a couple of hours there was the televised interviews, and then…the Games. At this point, she just wanted this to be over. She just wanted to sleep, and when she woke up, she wanted to be home, with Eliza and Alex, safe and alive.

Well, okay, that wasn’t entirely true. She wasn’t thinking about _nothing_ , per se. She was thinking about _Mon-El._ Which was…actually why she wasn’t thinking about the Games. Not really because she was just tired of them…or she didn’t care. She just had bigger issues to care about.

She wanted to face-palm when she started thinking about him again. God, this thing had gone beyond the level of simple curiosity and passed to the zone of obsession, as if she had a crush on him or something, and she did _not_ like that. But it wasn’t entirely her fault that he didn’t leave her alone! Even after that talk on the terrace, Mon-El kept trying to talk to her every training session and every lunch, no matter how much she ignored him. He kept saying he just wanted to feel that he wasn’t alone for once, that he wanted to talk and nothing else, and that he wasn’t trying to make her feel bad or anything. He just…needed her, she guessed, even if he hadn’t voiced that thought out-loud.

And if she had to admit, she needed him, too…which was why she was staying away from him. When you needed something, losing it hurt more than never having it. At least in the latter, you never knew how good it felt like to _have_ that thing.

“You look amazing.” Kara slipped away from her thoughts with Lance’s voice coming from behind her. She must’ve been so distracted that she hadn’t even heard him come, but when she looked at her room’s door through the mirror, she saw the boy standing by it, his hands resting in his pockets. He was wearing a coal grey suit with a red tie that made him look at least two years older than he really was.

And considering the games, maybe that was a good thing.

“Thanks.” She forced a smile on her face as she turned around. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Well, that’s good. At least I can say I went down in a blaze, then.” Kara couldn’t help chuckling at that as she made her way to the bed, sitting down without caring whether the mirrors would cut into the silk blankets. Capitol had enough money in their hands to fix that.

“Yeah,” she said as she patted on the spot next to her. Lance quietly sat down, both of them staring at her hands, all too aware of what would be coming the next day.

“Can I ask you something?” Lance whispered a couple of seconds later. Kara lifted her head to look at the young boy.

“Of course.”

“I know…you’re talented. Enough that I think you have a chance to win the Games.”

“Lance—“

“Don’t object. We both know it’s true.” Kara said nothing to that, but she couldn’t help thinking, _you have no idea how right you are, Lance._ “I’m not mad or jealous. I just wonder… My family isn’t all that rich like yours, you know. We can barely get through the month, and now that I’ll be gone… I don’t know what they’re going to do. Can you… Can you just look out for them? I know you’ve been hunting and all for your family. Can you maybe…?”

“Hey, of course.” She put a hand on Lance’s arm. “I’ll take care of them.” That was the least she could do for the sort-of-friendship she built with Lance. Trying to avoid Mon-El and stop him from catching her alone, she’d spent the last few days of training with Lance. And between her teaching him some stuff and him trying to chat with her, they somehow built a tentative friendship. If he couldn’t survive… At least she could make sure his family lived.

“Thank you,” Lance nodded, swallowing hard with a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. Kara couldn’t even force herself to smile.

“Anyway, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way… I think it’s better if I go. You know, before Hank freaks out looking for me.” Kara smiled. Hank did have the tendency to freak out over them. He was kind of like an overprotective parent in that way, but she didn’t complain. It meant that Hank cared, and it always helped to have a mentor that cared instead of one that couldn’t even bother with them.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She watched the guy stand up and walk to the door before calling for him. “Hey, Lance?”

“Hm?”

“Go down in a blaze.” She finally managed to smile at Lance, especially after hearing him laugh. He nodded, turning around to leave, but this time he was the one that stopped. He turned around with a frown on his face.

“Actually, I have one more question.” Kara arched her brow. That sounded…ominous. “What’s going on between you and Mike?”

_Mike?_ It took Kara a couple of seconds to put the pieces together and realize that Mike was actually Mon-El. And then she froze. _Oh, no. Was it that obvious?_

“Nothing,” she lied, a frown pulling her brows. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

It didn’t seem like Lance bought that.

“The guy didn’t leave your side for the last two days, no matter how much you tried to push him away. And it… I know it’s crazy, but it seemed like there was some connection between you…as if you knew each other before the Games—“

“There isn’t a connection or…or anything like that, Lance.” Kara stood up and walked to the mirror to avoid looking at Lance. “He’s just crazy, that’s it. It’s not my fault.”

“But you seemed close—“

“Lance.” Kara felt her stare harshening as she turned around, in a way that she knew could scare away even the coldest person, namely Alex. Her sister once admitted that she could be really scary when she wanted to, and if she wanted to stop Lance from snooping… “There’s _nothing between us._ Okay?” Lance blinked at the sudden harshness of her voice and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, stumbling over his words. “I just wanted… Never mind. I’m just gonna go.” He scurried away so quickly that Kara wondered whether she’d been too hard. Yet if it was between making a friend doomed to die and keeping her alien identity secret, she’d choose the latter at the expense of the former any time.

She turned to the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. After tonight, the Games would start, and she needed to focus on that, not Mon-El. That was the only way to win this horrifying thing and actually go back home.

And a part of her knew… If she kept thinking about Mon-El, she’d never be able to win. Not just because he was as strong as her and would put up a fight, but… She didn’t think she could kill him in the first place.

* * *

Okay, well, maybe letting Mon-El go wasn’t as easy as she hoped it would be. She’d told herself, several times, that she didn’t care, she wouldn’t care—yet here she was, watching his televised interview.

But it wasn’t entirely _her_ fault that she had super-hearing, and she heard the interviewer—James Olsen—ask him whether “a handsome guy like him had a girl waiting for him back home.” And it wasn’t her fault that a part of her heart cared about the answer to that question. Well, maybe it was kind of her fault, but she’d rather blaming her heart than anything else. It was at least _something_ to blame.

She moved to the television, ignoring Lance’s stare on her back, listening to Mon-El.

“So, I’m sure a handsome guy like you would have a girl waiting for him back home,” James said, leaning forward with one of his bright, fake smiles. Mon-El laughed and shook his head, turning his eyes briefly to the ground. His stage persona was much different than who he was in real life, Kara couldn’t help thinking. In real life, he was very withdrawn from _everyone,_ barely talking or interacting with people around him. On stage, though… He was smiling constantly, he was chatting and making jokes, he was basically charming everyone around him. She didn’t know what to think of that.

(She refused to admit that a part of her found him all the hotter for it)

“No, no. Not really.” James arched his brow.

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, I’m flattered, but I’m just being honest.”

“So there’s no one?” Mon-El opened his mouth with that, Kara assumed to say no—she kinda liked that idea, not that she’d ever admit that—but then he stopped. Leaning back, he took a deep breath.

“Actually…that’s not entirely true.” James grinned.

“Ohh. Sounds like there’s some story behind it. And we would like to hear that, wouldn’t we?” There was a huge applause with that, followed by Mon-El’s light laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair.

“There’s not much of a story there.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I just…” Mon-El stopped, his smile erased from his face. He lifted his head and looked directly at the camera, as if his façade had dropped, as if he was looking right at Kara. She couldn’t help shivering and wrapping her arms around herself. _And I can’t even blame the cold for that, since I can’t get cold._ “I thought we had a connection, and I’m sure she believed that, too, but… She was too scared to be with me.”

Kara didn’t need him to say her name to know he was talking about her. Her heart dropped. _Oh, God._

“Scared? Why?” James asked. Mon-El just laughed, but there was no humor in it. He shook his head.

“I wish I knew.” There was a short silence after those words, enough that Kara felt a shot of pain going through her chest. _You know why,_ she couldn’t help thinking. _You know we both can’t survive this. What’s the point, then?_

“Well, I’m sure she won’t be able to resist you once you return home from the Games as a victor. Am I right?”

All Mon-El could do was force a smile at that. “I hope so.” Yet it was easy to see what he was thinking from his eyes. _We both won’t be able to survive this._ But… But it was more than that. It was as if…as if he thought _he_ wasn’t making it back.

Kara couldn’t help remembering what he told her a couple of days ago on the terrace. _You know how to kill me. I won’t fight back if you try._ She never thought he was telling the truth, but maybe…maybe he was. Maybe he really meant that he would…

She couldn’t even think about his death, but if Mon-El was out of the picture, there really was no one that could fight her in the Games. And even beyond that, Mon-El didn’t have anything to _fight_ her with. Assuming their powers were equal, she still had the upper hand. She could kill him with any weapon, while he only had his fists to trust in. A knife wound and he’d be dead.

It was unfair. Well, all of it was unfair, but it was all too unfair that he was giving up so quickly. _I won’t fight back if you try._ He was giving up…so that she could survive. So that she could go back home, because… She didn’t even know why. Because he didn’t want to kill her? He didn’t want to hurt the one person coming from somewhere so close to his home planet—someone that he met when he was a child, too? The thought of losing another part of his home hurt too much that he didn’t want to live with that pain?

Aaaaand now she wasn’t talking about him. Shutting her eyes, she quickly wiped away a couple of stray tears. She’d already made her mind by the time she opened her eyes. If Mon-El had told her his vulnerability, then he deserved to have the chance to fight back. Her hand went to her wrist, even though she didn’t wear her bracelet today.

For some reason, giving it—the only thing that could hurt her—to Mon-El didn’t scare her as much as it should.

“Mon-El,” she whispered, her eyes trained on the TV. Mon-El’s eyes briefly flickered to the camera with her voice. He didn’t change his expression, continuing to smile and nod at James, yet that small gesture was enough for her to know he was listening. “Tonight. Meet me on the terrace.”

Happiness twinkled in his eyes with that, breaking through his fake smiles and forced laughs. He nodded, this time at Kara and not at James.

And despite all common sense, Kara couldn’t help looking forward to the night.

* * *

The kryptonite had already started affecting Kara, despite holding it for only a couple of minutes now. Sitting by the side of the roof, she absentmindedly played with it while also watching Capitol. Since it was the night before the Games, the city was even brighter than usual. The sound of partying reached her without her super-hearing.

“Kara?” She pulled away from her thoughts with Mon-El’s voice. She felt her breath getting hitched in her throat as she turned to look at him. He looked…hopeful. Her heart cracked at that. He must’ve thought she wanted to meet because she’d changed her mind about being friends.

Well. This had just gotten way harder.

She swung her legs down and stood up. “Thank you for coming.”

The coldness in her voice stopped him midway, shock splashing on his face. She continued before he could say anything back, worried that if she waited, she wouldn’t be able to push him away. Not anymore, at least. “I want to give you something.”

She stepped forward to take his hand and put the bracelet in it. The relief of putting away the kryptonite was almost overwhelmed with the warmth she felt spreading through her even with that small touch.

Mon-El couldn’t say anything as he stared at the kryptonite bracelet. “It’s kryptonite,” she explained quietly. Only then understanding splashed on Mon-El’s face.

“Kara—“ he tried to say, but she didn’t let him.

“You trusted me with your vulnerability. I want you to have this, so that if we…” She gulped, struggling with the words. “If we have to…to fight, you can fight back.”

“Kara, I would never—“

“Don’t say that.” She stopped him when she heard the confidence in his voice. As if he was sure he wouldn’t fight her. “Don’t give up yet.”

“I’m not killing you.”

“You might not have a choice.” She stared at his eyes, clenching her teeth. _And that’s the saddest part, isn’t it?_ she couldn’t help thinking. _That we don’t have a choice?_

A part of her told her that she could still not fight, but she shut that part quickly. She couldn’t think like that. She could only hope… She’d be able to do what she needed to survive when the time came.

(She didn’t know how to do that if she couldn’t even _say_ what it was, but still…)

“I do,” Mon-El insisted, taking her out of her thoughts. He put the bracelet back into her hand. “And I’m choosing not to fight you. Kara, there’s another way through this—“

“There isn’t for me, okay?” she couldn’t help yelling as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath to keep herself from crying. “I can’t put my family in danger. I have to do this by Capitol’s rules.” Only then she opened her eyes, quickly pushing back her tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, staring at his chest so that she wouldn’t have to look at his eyes. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

Mon-El didn’t say anything, even as she gave him the bracelet back, which she assumed meant he wouldn’t be insisting further. At the very least.

“May the odds be ever in our favor.” That was the last thing she said before walking around Mon-El and out of the terrace.

Too focused on wiping away her tears and keeping her sobs down, she didn’t see or hear Mon-El throwing the kryptonite necklace out of the terrace without even a hesitation.  


	10. Allegience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello, y'all!!!
> 
> so...bad news first. this might be the last story i'm gonna be posting for the next couple of days, as my exam week is starting tomorrow. it's a miracle that i'm even posting this now, but...well, i needed a little break from all that studying, i guess. anyway, i'd really appreciate it if ya'll could send me some luck, because god knows i'm gonna need that :) 
> 
> but good news - after my exam week, we're actually going into spring break, which means i'm gonna be able to write much more! soo yeah, expect some quick posting after my exam week
> 
> but in the meanwhile...hope you like this chapter!

Kara felt sick to her stomach for what felt like the first time she came on earth. And it didn’t feel like some imaginary, mental sickness. No, she definitely could feel her stomach churning, and she felt like she could vomit the moment she opened her mouth. The last time she felt like this, she was on Krypton and bedridden, having caught a terrible disease.

Except she wasn’t on Krypton, and there was no way that her alien body could’ve caught a disease here. Her immune system—hell, every single organ in her body—was way too strong for that. Those little disease-carrying bacteria or viruses would be destroyed the moment they entered her bloodstream.

If they could pass through her invincible skin first, anyway.

So the only explanation to this sickness really was what was awaiting her. They’d just got off of the damn Capitol plane, and she was supposed to enter the room in front of her so that…so that her designer could bid her goodbye. So that she could be carried up to the arena, and then…

And then the Games.

It was almost ridiculous just how worried she was today, considering how she felt numb all over just yesterday. Granted, she _did_ cry under the covers a little bit, but that was…that was because of her conversation with Mon-El. Not the _Games._

Thinking about that now certainly didn’t help, though. Because…well, Mon-El would be a part of the Games, too, which meant that to win…she’d have to kill him. She doubted anyone else would be able to. And that thought…that alone was enough to make her sick. She didn’t think she could kill him. Yet she had to.

_Be brave,_ she told herself inside, gathering her courage to step into the room in front of her. _Be strong. You’ve always had the guts to face anything. Don’t back down now, when you have so much to lose. When the people that love you have too much to lose. You deserve to live._

The voice, she couldn’t help thinking, started to sound more and more like her mother’s— _Alura’s,_ not Eliza’s. And maybe that was what gave her the strength to step forward. The voice was right. Even if she couldn’t do this for herself, she had to do this for the people that loved her. She knew what losing someone felt like, and she didn’t want her Earth family to go through that.

She ignored the fact that there were probably families waiting for other tributes, or else she’d never be able to do this.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, entering the small room. It actually looked more like a cage, what with metal-looking walls and a glass elevator in the middle, but she pushed back that thought. She was already caged enough without the addition of a physical cage.

Her eyes met Lena’s a couple of seconds later. Probably… Probably the only other person in this damn place who understood her feelings.

Lena tried to offer her a smile. “Here’s my winner.”

Kara couldn’t even return the smile. She couldn’t say anything, all the witty comments leaving her mind with the reality of the situation. She just let herself be embraced by Lena, even though she couldn’t exactly feel it, because… She didn’t know, honestly. She just needed to feel like she wasn’t alone, and Lena was the only person around that she wouldn’t try to kill.

“I’m scared,” she did find herself say a couple of seconds later, though. So she wasn’t that tongue-tied. And was apparently scared, too. _Not of death,_ she couldn’t help thinking. She was scared of what…what she’d have to become in the Games to survive. What she’d have to turn into. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to even look at herself in the mirror if she survived. She was afraid to be trapped in the body of someone who would kill to survive herself. Selfish. Murderer _. Monster._

“Kara, you’re strong and skilled. You can fight back—“

“That’s not what I’m scared of,” she said hoarsely. She knew she could fight—win, even. “I’m scared of…of becoming a monster.” Tears filled her eyes, and she had to blink them away. She had to pull herself together, damn it.

Understanding filled Lena’s eyes. “Killing someone doesn’t immediately make you a monster, Kara,” she said. Kara shook her head.

“How? I’m… I’m taking away someone’s life. That’s… That’s the most precious thing on Earth.”

“Yes, and to enjoy killing is the most horrible thing there can be in this world. But you don’t enjoy killing. You’re thrown into a situation in which you don’t have another choice. Killing doesn’t make you a monster then. It makes you a survivor.”

At that moment, Kara couldn’t really see the difference between the two, but the only way she could get through this was to believe Lena, so she nodded. As if she had any other choice.

“Thirty seconds.” An electronic voice interrupted them, causing Kara to jump back. Her chest squeezed with fear as her eyes found Lena’s sympathetic ones.

She’d never felt more human than that moment.

Lena put her hands on Kara’s arm. “You’re strong, Kara,” she said, ducking her chin. “I can see it in your eyes. So _fight._ ”

“No ‘may the odds be ever in your favor’?” Kara couldn’t help asking sarcastically with that. Wasn’t that Capitol’s catchphrase?

Lena just smiled. “I don’t really believe in that.” Even those genuine words, just a flicker of understanding, made Kara feel substantially better.

“Thank you,” she told Lena gratefully as the woman accompanied her to the glass elevator.

“Ten seconds.” Those words interrupted the silence in the room. Kara briefly wondered what would happen if she stayed outside before stepping into the elevator.

“Six.” She turned around to face Lena. The designer had put her hand on the glass.

“Five.” Kara lifted hers to put it over Lena’s, her other hand going up to her necklace. The glyph of House of El, which somehow made her feel less alone than she actually was.

“Four.” Lena smiled at her encouragingly, two words playing on her lips. _Be strong._

“Three.” All Kara could do was nod at that.

“Two.” She looked up at the ceiling of the elevator, using her X-ray vision to see the outside. She’d been afraid to do it before, but…how could it hurt at this point?

“One.” And then the elevator was carrying her up, where she felt like her life would be changed forever…once again.

* * *

 

The Arena was so bright that, for a moment, Kara’s vision whitened. She had to blink several times to adjust her eyes to the light, to what was in front of her—a grass field, surrounded by a thick forest. Her gaze flickered around to take everything in ten times faster than a human would be able to. There was a lake to her right, extending into the line of trees. Out of question, even for her, as a water source. She was pretty sure the careers would claim it the moment the Games started. She needed to find an alternate source of water—and there it was. To her right, about two miles into the forest. She also saw that it was surrounded by rocks, and one of them actually opened up to a cave—a good hiding place. She turned around, looking straight across. There was a small mountain there behind a grass field. It wouldn’t offer any protection or hiding at all, and it didn’t seem like it had a water source, so that was out of question. For now, the best choice for her seemed like going to the right—after grabbing some things from the Cornucopia.

Because she was, of course, running to the huge horn standing right in the middle of all the tributes. Despite what Hank told them over and over again. Hank didn’t know that she had super-speed or super-strength, or her skin was invincible. Getting some knives, ropes, food, water, materials for camouflaging, anything would be helpful for her survival. Anything that might help her avoid conflict no matter what.

She wasn’t planning on harming anyone unless she absolutely had to. And even then…

Her eyes flickered around the cornucopia, calculating what she could take. There were about a dozen knives she could see right at her eyesight. That seemed like it would be helpful. Next to it, there was also a bow and arrow that she planned to get her hands on. Inside, she could see the food, but food was really down in her priority list. She could not only survive and stay strong without food, she also trusted her hunting skills. But there were ropes inside that she could use for traps, there were sleep-bags, which might help to keep her alien identity a secret, and water canteens. She also saw a bunch of backpacks lying around, and she was definitely grabbing one of those. While she couldn’t look so closely to see everything that was inside, it wasn’t like it was going to be a _bomb_ or anything. It would be something that would help her—hence, she was getting it.

She looked at the countdown going on above the cornucopia. Fifteen seconds. Good. Readying her feet, she focused on her target, ignoring everything else around her. It was just like hunting, but this time, her prey were the knives, the bow and arrows, the backpack, the cornucopia.

The horn that indicated the start of the Games was almost deafening. But it didn’t stop Kara for even one second—she was already running the moment she heard it. She kept her speed in control, making sure she was the first to reach the cornucopia, but also that she wasn’t too fast to warrant attention. The first two things that she grabbed was the belt of knives, which she swung over her shoulder, and then the bow and arrows.

Her hand had just wrapped around the bow that she heard the first scream. Now _that_ distracted her. She spun around—

The body of a girl fell literally right next to her, with a knife lodged into her chest. Kara would’ve screamed if she wasn’t too shocked—if her throat wasn’t knotted. It wasn’t the first time she saw a dead body, per se—there were always dead people in District 12—but to have it happen so close to her…

The reality felt like it had just set in. And this would be her reality for the next couple of days—weeks, even.

She snapped out of her stupor only when she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching her. She turned around to see a career tribute rushing up to her—with a knife in hand. A knife that couldn’t even scratch her skin.

She still jumped out of the way when the boy threw it at her, and she ran inside the cornucopia, in the middle of boxes of stuff lying around. Hiding out of sight.

She tried not to look at the body by her feet as she had to jump over it. She could hear everything—the screams of tributes, the sound of gurgling blood, the victorious laughter… She could hear them, and it was sickening. If this was any other situation, she’d curl up in a ball and cry. But this was the Hunger Games, and she was…she was a warrior. And warriors didn’t give up. They didn’t cry—they pushed through the obstacles, and they won.

Her hand wrapped around a bag filled with bread, while her other hand grabbed bananas. She tucked both of them into the sleeping bag she found by her feet, and then she swung it over her shoulder to carry it more easily. Looking behind, she saw the bloodbath happening behind her—bloodbath that was finally approaching inside of the cornucopia.

She had to leave.

Spinning around, she jumped over a box, ready to run away. Seeing a backpack right in front of her, she grabbed it—

“I got you, Mike.” The quietly uttered words cut through her thoughts in such a way that she froze.

Everything happened so fast after that.

She saw Samantha running towards the cornucopia with a huge spear in her hand and a smile on her face. She saw where her eyes were directed towards—Mon-El, who was…was he _ushering away_ a young tribute away from the cornucopia?

Yet Kara had only one moment to think about that. One second, and then the wheeze of a flying knife in air filled her ears. Time slowed—or more like _she_ started moving in super-speed—as she looked up to see the knife. The knife…directed right at Mon-El’s _back._

She barely had time to think before she had to move. She didn’t think anyway. Tightening her hand around the strap of the backpack, she rushed between the knife and Mon-El—in super-speed. There was no other way to get in between them, to protect him from an imminent death. Because he would die. He was vulnerable to lead, and she didn’t need her X-ray vision to tell her that knives were made of lead.

And that thought was so horrible that her instincts, which usually pushed her towards self-preservation and protecting her alien identity, threw all common sense out of the window and used her superpowers to save him.

Though those self-preservation instincts must at least be there, because instead of using her arm to stop the knife, she lifted the bag so that it stuck there.

She felt almost breathless as she dropped the bag down, her eyes focusing on her surroundings to find Samantha. Yet the girl wasn’t running at them.

No, she was too busy dealing with another tribute.

Seeing that, she spun around to look at Mon-El. Even though she knew she got in the way of the knife, even though she knew he had to be okay, she needed to make sure. She needed to see him and make sure.

Her eyes met with his wide, confused ones. Kara’s heart rate picked up and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. It only hit her then, as she watched Mon-El look behind her, as she watched his gaze flicker to the knife lodged into her backpack. She’d _saved_ his life. She’d… She’d _risked_ using her superpowers to save _him._ Letting him die… It would’ve been the easier thing. Then, she wouldn’t have to think about him again. She wouldn’t have to worry about getting close to him and then having her heart broken. She could just move on.

Even she knew she was lying as she thought that. She knew that his death would break her heart even now. She knew she couldn’t move on—not easily at least. And she also knew that even if she was allowed to go back in time and change her decision about saving him, she wouldn’t do it.

“Kara—“ Mon-El whispered, taking her out of her thoughts. She blinked away her tears to see him step forward, approaching her—

Her instincts kicked in again as she spun around and ran away. The realization that she’d already gotten too close to Mon-El had hit her hard. She never meant that to happen. She did everything in her power to stop that from happening, and yet… She couldn’t let this go on. She had to stay away from him. She had to put as much distance between him and herself—

“Damn it, Kara!” She heard Mon-El’s footsteps following her, making her heart jump. Trying to ignore that, she pushed through, turning to right. “Kara, wait!” The trees were close, so close. Once she got into the forest, Mon-El would lose her, and then she’d be free. “Wait, please!” Stepping into the forest she didn’t stop, making her way around the trees, trying to—

A hand wrapped around her arm so strongly that she stumbled forward, falling to the ground harshly. If she was a human, she’d probably have a sprained ankle or something.

Her heart was pounding as she pushed herself up to her feet, ready to run away again— _away from Mon-El,_ she couldn’t help thinking—but that strong hand wrapped around her wrist again. “Stop. Kara. Please.” He sounded too breathless, too desperate as he said that.

And maybe that was it that stopped her. Maybe she didn’t want to let him down, and she thought she could at least hear him out. Or maybe…maybe she did want to stop, she did want to spend time with him, and she was just too tired to fight that. There was a chance that these would be the last days of her life anyway—if, by some miracle, someone killed her.

Mon-El only let her go when he saw in her eyes that she wouldn’t try to run away. _A wrong move,_ she couldn’t help thinking, _to let his defenses down._ Anyone else, and they might kill him. Anyone else, and they might run away.

She stayed.

“You saved my life,” he whispered when the silence continued. Pressing her lips together, Kara jutted out her chin.

“You saved someone else’s life,” she retorted, as if that could make what _she_ did any less…any less serious. Mon-El had protected someone without using his superpowers. She… She actually…

The way Mon-El was looking at her told her that he knew it as well. He searched her face intently—slowly, it felt like, even though it was only because she could process everything so quickly. “An allegiance,” he proposed after what felt like forever.

Kara started shaking her head almost immediately. “No—“

“Listen first, please,” he pleaded quickly before she could even get a word in. She stopped. She didn’t know why. She knew she couldn’t say no to any offer coming from him, and to prevent that she should interfere before he made that offer, and yet…yet she didn’t want to interfere.

It was so very hard to admit it, but she wanted the allegiance, more than she realized it.

“It doesn’t have to be anything personal. Just… Just until we make it through the first couple of days—until there are very few opponents left. And then you can do anything you want.” _You can even kill me._ The unsaid words hung between them, especially because she knew very well that that was what he was thinking. “It can help us survive,” he added as if as an afterthought.

_We’re already strong enough to survive on our own,_ Kara thought, but she bit back the words. Mon-El’s words…made sense for a human. An allegiance would definitely help _them_ survive, as they didn’t have super-strength or invincible skins to protect them. An allegiance would be _logical_ for them in a way it wasn’t for her.

But the world didn’t know that.

And hiding her alien identity was a good enough excuse to accept Mon-El’s offer—to pretend that she didn’t accept it because she _wanted_ to.

“Until there are very few opponents left,” she reiterated his words just to make sure. Mon-El’s eyes lit up in a way that made her chest flutter—and she ignored that quickly as well.

“I promise.”

“Then yes,” she said before changing her mind. “Yes. Let’s… Let’s do this.” Mon-El smiled at her with those words—a genuine smile, a stark contrast to the bloodbath that was the Games. Kara couldn’t help shivering.

She wondered briefly what she’d gotten herself into by accepting Mon-El’s offer, until she realized that she was so, _so_ sick of wondering. She’d spent the last week wondering. About the Games, about her life, about honor, and ethics, and every single thing that was thrown her way…

For once, she didn’t want to wonder. For once, she wanted to do whatever felt right. No matter the consequences.


	11. Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello y'all!!!
> 
> so, first, i wanna apologize for being MIA for a couple of days, when i should've been writing and updating this...oops. but, well...in the last couple of days, thanks to a friend, i got the idea for a super secret multichapter fanfic/AU that i'm now working on, and the outlining kind of consumed my life. i'm really excited about it, so i wanted to write it as quickly as possible...which meant that i kind of focused only on that. SORRY!!! but i'll try balancing everything a bit more evenly from now on ;)
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy this!

__

* * *

_Nine… Ten… Eleven…_ Kara counted the number of cannon shots, indicating the deaths of tributes, each one breaking a piece off of her. She knew, always, that the Cornucopia would be a bloodbath. She knew many of the tributes would die, but…but _eleven_? That was high, even for the Games.

She could feel a scowl forming on her face when she ducked her chin to look at Mon-El. He looked distressed as well. She could almost read his thoughts: How many of the tributes he’d spent the last three days with lost their lives? How many faces that he only saw in passing were gone from the world forever? How many of them did he get to know personally?

At least she assumed he was thinking those because those were the exact thoughts milling around in her head.

“That’s eleven,” she whispered, gulping to get rid of the knot in her throat. Mon-El just nodded curtly. Well, what could he say anyway? Nothing could make this any better.

She cleared her throat. “We should continue moving,” she said, vaguely gesturing at the direction of the lake that she saw. “I want to get as far from the Cornucopia as possible before the night, and it’ll also be nice if we can find a water source.”

“Yeah,” Mon-El agreed.

“And… And somewhere to sleep safely. You got the rope?” She glanced at him as they started walking. He patted on his backpack.

“It’s in there. You wanna set a trap?” She nodded, narrowing her eyes to her surroundings. She could see several squirrels and birds on trees, which she could certainly hunt for, but…enough blood was shed today. She didn’t want to shed any more blood, at least with her bare hands. A trap would be a better choice.

“I’m tired,” she lied, knowing Mon-El could easily see through it. Her Kryptonian blood, just as his Daxamite system, prevented her from getting exhausted. “I just don’t feel like hunting today. And we do need to hunt because a couple of bananas and some bread won’t be enough. We’re also gonna need the meat.” She was aware that she was only rambling to distract herself from the heaviness of the situation, but she couldn’t stop herself. She reached for the banana bag to grab two of them, handing one to Mon-El. He arched his brow. “We need to conserve our energy,” she said. Technically, they could both go on without food for at least a couple of days without much of a problem, but food did help them stay sharp.

Mon-El took the banana without much of an objection. They walked silently for a couple of seconds, listening to the voices around to make sure there were no tributes close to them as Kara led them to the lake. Mon-El only spoke up a couple of minutes later. “Who do you think died?”

The question caught Kara so off guard that she almost stumbled. She whipped her head up to look at him. “What does it matter?” she asked, her voice cracking in the middle. He seemed… He seemed so unfazed by this that she couldn’t believe it. Or maybe he was better at hiding his feelings than she was.

“To plan our strategy,” he said as if it was so simple. “We need to know who died so that we know who we’ll have to deal with.” He searched his face, and he must’ve seen her distress because he put a reassuring hand on her elbow. Kara…didn’t have it in her to push it back. “Look, I hate this just as much as you do, but we can’t just sit around and wait for this to end. We have to do something.”

“Why not?” Kara threw her arms in the air. Mon-El looked at her incredulously, yet she continued without backing down. “I’d think finding a good place to hide and not dealing with any of the craziness of the Games would be the way to win.” Mon-El stopped with those words. Kara took a couple of steps forward before turning to him. “What?”

“So that’s your strategy?” he asked, walking up to her. “To hide away?”

“It sounds like a pretty good strategy.”

“But what about fighting?” Kara arched her brow.

“ _Fighting_? For what?”

“I don’t know. To even out the playing field?” She stared at Mon-El blankly. “To take out the careers? You and I both know they are unfairly advantaged.” It was easy to read the hidden meaning of his sentence. _We are unfairly advantaged as well, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use it to help others._

Yet one question still nagged at her. One very important question. “So we take out the careers,” she whispered, shaking her head. “It won’t change anything at the end, not for the other tributes. If one of us wants to win… They’ll have to die.” She tried to gulp to get rid of the knot in her throat. It didn’t work.

“At least they’ll have a fighting chance.” He searched Kara’s eyes. “I don’t know about you, Kara, but if I’m going down in the Games… I’m going down fighting, not hiding away somewhere.” He didn’t continue, but she knew what it meant. He’d told her before. He was already planning on dying, and when he did… He wanted it to be for something worthy. He’d made up his mind.

But she’d also made up her mind. She was going to survive, and she was going to do it with as little blood on her hands as possible.

“And I’m planning to get through this alive, _Mike,_ with as little blood on my hands as possible.” She felt almost breathless as she looked at him. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it.” She didn’t wait for him to answer before she walked away, biting her lip to push back her tears. The last thing she needed right now was to allow _Mike_ to make her feel bad about her decision. As if fighting for others, fighting for justice and fairness in a situation like this would change anything.

“So that’s it?” Mon-El asked, stopping her. “You’re just hiding?” She spun around to face him.

“I’m _surviving_.”

“You’re giving up! Kara…” He stepped forward, lifting his hands as if he wanted to hold hers, but he stopped midway. Instead, he took a deep breath. “You can do so much more than hiding. You can _fight.”_

_You’ve always been a warrior, Kara. So fight._

Mon-El’s words reminded her of what Eliza said for a moment so much that she could only blink at him. And she’d promised Eliza that she’d fight…but not in the way Mon-El said. She promised she’d fight to get back home, not save some doomed tributes. She clenched her teeth.

“Well, then you do that,” she told him, backing away. “I never wanted this alliance anyway.”

She’d turned around and was walking away before giving Mon-El time to answer. She didn’t pay attention to him, even when he called for her.

“Kara!”

* * *

The cave that Kara saw next to the lake…wasn’t as great a cover as she hoped it would be. It was way too small to be comfortable in there, and besides, staying in one place for too long made her feel itchy. She needed to move to keep unnecessary thoughts away from her mind.

But when it was the middle of the night… Moving would be too dangerous. Not that anyone could kill her, but still… She needed to pretend to be a human, and no human would be so stupid to roam around at night. Not even the careers. You never knew what the Gamemakers might’ve put out there.

She was just settling down when the Capitol anthem filled her ears, interrupting her thoughts. Her heart jumped in her chest. Dropping the sleeping bag on the floor, she couldn’t help stepping out of the cave to look up—even though a part of her didn’t want to know who died that day. Afraid to see a familiar face there—Lance’s face.

Every night, just for the knowledge of the remaining tributes, the names of the dead people were flashed up on the sky. It had never been a thing Kara looked forward to, but now that there were personal stakes…

She was holding her breath by the time the names started flashing in the sky. Eleven people. Children. She could barely wrap her mind around it.

The first photo that flashed was of the girl from District 3—so no careers had died. Mon-El included, after they separated. She breathed a sigh of relief. _At least._

No tribute from District 4. As expected. Both tributes from 5. The boys from 6 and 7. Both tributes from 8. No tribute from 9. The girl from 10. Both tributes from 11. And if she counted correctly… That was only ten. Her heart plummeted just as…

Just as Lance’s face flashed in the sky.

Tears filled Kara’s eyes. She tried to push them away, but one had escaped before she even closed her eyes. Her hand went up to her necklace involuntarily. She always knew—even Lance knew—that he wouldn’t survive, but to actually see it…

“I hope you’re in a better place, Lance,” she said, looking into the sky. She was just about to go back into her cave, into her safe space… Before she stopped.

Lance had died today…and she couldn’t just turn her back to that and ignore it. She wanted to. Everything she told Mon-El about hiding and keeping her hands clean was true. But that was before Lance died, in the hands of probably a career. A career who was so _unfairly advantaged_ that Lance didn’t even stand a chance against him. She could’ve stopped the career, though. _She_ had the means to do it…and if she hadn’t been so scared, she could’ve saved Lance. Maybe it wouldn’t matter at the end, but it would matter at that moment. It would surely matter for Lance.

She couldn’t stay silent. Not anymore. Mon-El was right. She had to fight the injustice, if only…if only to give the children like Lance a chance. Hope. Even if it was someone’s last days, having hope changed everything. And wasn’t that the meaning of the symbol on her necklace? Hope?

She hadn’t been giving much of hope to anyone lately. She’d been cowering, hiding, staying in the shadows instead of protecting people. She should’ve protected people, not used her powers for herself only. That wasn’t what warriors did.

And to change that… She knew exactly who to go to.

* * *

Mon-El cursed as another trap fell apart in his hands, sticks and pieces of rope falling to the ground. His eyesight, unfortunately, wasn’t as good as Kara’s, which meant he had to trust his other senses to build the damn thing…but it seemed like it wasn’t working. He’d never been as good at building traps as Kara was anyway.

And damn it, why was he still thinking about Kara? He had to let her go. She’d made her decision. She wasn’t going to fight. Granted, she was…she was right in saying that it wouldn’t matter at the end, but he couldn’t just sit around while those careers basically slaughtered the unskilled tributes. He could at least…at least give them a couple of days of hope.

Sighing, he was just about to give up on building a trap—he could easily hunt the next day—when a voice interrupted him from behind. He’d been so wrapped around in his thoughts that he heard her only at the last second.

“You’re doing it wrong—Whoa.” Kara stepped back when she saw him stand up and whirl around to face her. “It’s just me. No one else is around.”

If he was hearing it right, she was correct, yet it still took him a couple of seconds to calm his heart. He took a deep breath before he opened his eyes to look at the girl.

His heart squeezed briefly at the sight of her, yet he pushed that feeling away. He wasn’t letting her get under his skin anymore. He’d already done that enough. He was just…he was just tired. And besides, she hadn’t done anything but disappoint him anyway.

“What are you doing here, Kara?” he asked, letting his shoulder slump. She didn’t even seem fazed by the coldness in his voice. She tucked at the strap of her backpack.

“Well, I guess I deserved that question, didn’t I?” He arched his brow at her. “I just… You must’ve seen that Lance died. The other tribute from District 12.”

With that, Mon-El’s resolve softened. He shook his head. “I’m sorry about that—“

“And you know what he told me in our last conversation?” she cut him as if she wouldn’t be able to continue if she stayed silent. She smiled, just to suppress her tears. “He asked me to protect his family in case he died and I survived. He always knew he was going to die, so he…he did what he could. And now…” She quickly wiped a tear away. “Seeing his face on the sky was like a punch in the gut for me. He believed in me, and I…I chose to hide when I could’ve done something to help others. But I can’t go on like this anymore.” She straightened up, and Mon-El immediately saw the shift in her. She’d turned from a grieving friend to a…to a warrior almost in a second. “So if the offer is still on the table… I’ll help you take down the careers. You know what they say—two hands are better than one…or something like that, since an alliance means we’re gonna have four hands over two, but…”

A smile pulled Mon-El’s lips. God, Kara could be so…so charming when she wanted it. Or even when she didn’t want it, because it didn’t seem like she was rambling on purpose right now. It was almost too easy to get caught in her web. And maybe that was why, despite all common sense, he nodded.

“I could really use an extra pair of hands,” he said with a shrug. Surprise splashed on Kara’s face for a moment, but then she smiled. And it wasn’t a fake smile either. It was a real one. Maybe the first real smile he saw from her.

At that moment, he knew he was a goner.


	12. Careers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!!!
> 
> i actually can't believe i'm posting this chapter right now, because i honestly didn't think i'd be able to get it finished this week. but alas, i DID, so here we go!
> 
> also, one reason i wanted to get it out this week actually is that i'm taking the AP chemistry exam this monday, and if any of y'all are familiar with AP exams, it's so damn hard. so i've kind of been stressing myself over it - more like freaking out but whatever - and posting these fanfics and reading your comments always motivate me in a way that i can't explain, and i feel like i'm gonna need that motivation in like less than two days. so, well, wish me luck :)
> 
> and i also hope that i can end my social media silence this monday at least for a couple of weeks before finals hit me full force, so there's also that. fingers crossed :)
> 
> anyway, thank you so much for being patient with me and these chapters. you're all so amazing and i love you SO SO MUCHHHHHH
> 
> hope you like this!

Kara woke up to the smell of meat. She blinked her eyes open, confused at first, not quite remembering what happened last night. She knew she was in the Games now—well, the dirt and grass under her hand were enough of an indication of that. But who could be cooking meat so close to her? Was there another—

Oh. She stopped when she saw Mon-El. Of course. She’d forgotten that they made—well, _re_ made—an alliance yesterday. They’d decided last night that Kara would stand guard first, and then she’d wake Mon-El about halfway through the night so that she could get some sleep. And apparently, while she was doing that, Mon-El had been busy hunting.

She couldn’t help smiling. As reluctant as she was to make this alliance, she could see the benefits of it. And _no,_ she wasn’t saying that because she was hungry and Mon-El was cooking meat. And it wasn’t just that two was always better than one in these sorts of circumstances. He was also a really incredible guy and having him around generally lifted up her mood in a way she couldn’t explain it. Instead of feeling a huge weight on her shoulders and not even wanting to get out of her sleeping bag, she was feeling light and even slightly excited. Maybe it was scary, but she didn’t have it in her to care anymore.

She unzipped the sleeping bag and pushed herself up from the ground. Mon-El turned to him with the sound, a smile spreading across his lips. “Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he quipped, putting the now cooked rabbit aside. Kara’s heart skipped a beat when she caught the reference. Sleeping Beauty… It had been a common fairytale on Krypton and Daxam. She loved it so much that she’d urged her parents to tell it, again and again, every night when she was about five, and they did it, without complaining.

She hadn’t thought about those days in such a long time, or the fairytale, but even that small reference warmed her heart so much that she couldn’t help smiling. Besides, the name “sleeping beauty” was so vague that she doubted anyone watching would interpret that as something foreign. That could certainly be Mon-El’s nickname for her. She and Mon-El were walking a dangerous line here, yes, but they needed to reminisce their previous life at least every now and then.

She smiled at him. “I’m glad you think I’m beautiful with my sleep hair,” she said, standing up to stretch. Mon-El just chuckled lightly as an answer, killing the fire to prepare their food. And when Kara said food, she meant a good amount of it. Did he actually catch _two rabbits_ in the morning? “Wow, you’ve been busy,” she remarked, earning a smug smile from him.

“You know, thought I’d make myself useful.” Laughing, she sat next to him, taking one of the rabbits. “And I thought we could use some energy because we’ll probably need to be on our feet the whole day.”

“We will?”

“I hoped that we could go after the Careers. The sooner they’re out of the picture, the better, right?” Oh. Right. There was that.

“Yeah, good idea. I’m assuming their lair will be by the Cornucopia?” A chuckle left Mon-El’s lips with those words. She turned to him, mouth full of rabbit. “What?”

“Their _lair?”_ he asked.

“I mean, they’re the bad guys, right? Bad guys have lairs.” Mon-El arched his brow. “And it’s more fun to call it a lair than a hideout.” He was still gaping at her. “You know, I know it was a bad joke, but give me a break! I’m just trying to lighten the mood.” She glanced at him, finally, finally earning a laugh from him—though she didn’t know whether it was a delayed reaction to her joke or the rabbit grease that probably spread all over her face. God, she needed a shower or something—or at least something as close to it as she could get here.

“I guess we’re going to their lair then,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head. Kara beamed at the fact that he seemed to accept her joke almost without a question. “But I don’t think you’d want to go there ‘guns-blazing’, figuratively speaking.”

“Oh, definitely not. That would be like signing our death sentence.” _Figuratively speaking,_ she thought, though it would certainly reveal that they weren’t human, and that was practically a death sentence as well. “We have to scout the area first, to see what we can do to hinder them, if not… You know, take them out.” Even the tone of her voice suggested she wasn’t very fond of that idea. And if Mon-El had to be honest, he wasn’t either. He frowned at the rabbit in his hands.

An idea popped into his head then.

“You know, I might have a way of putting them at a disadvantage without having to hurt them,” he suggested, looking up. Kara turned to him hopefully.

“I’m listening.”

“Their training… I mean, our training doesn’t really include hunting, you know. All the sneaking around, staying quiet, listening, being patient… That’s not our way. We are taught to kill people in the…most brutal way possible. In a way that gets the most views.” She saw the grimace on Kara’s face with that.

“Well, I did not need to know that,” she said quietly. Mon-El just shook his head.

“I know it’s terrible, but I think we can actually use that to our advantage. Because the reason our training doesn’t focus on hunting is that we trust the food in Cornucopia. It is pretty much enough to get you through the game if you can get it all for yourself, and Careers pretty much get it all for themselves. So they don’t have to worry about filling their bellies among other things.”

Understanding flashed in Kara’s eyes. “But we somehow manage to get the food out of their hands…”

“They will have to hunt. They won’t be able to focus on killing other people, not as much at least.”

“And they’ll also be weaker, so it’ll be easier to fight them. Mike, that is genius,” she laughed, lifting her hand to run it through her hair—until she stopped midway when she saw how greasy it was. He couldn’t help chuckling at her.

“I know.” She narrowed her eyes at him, even though she was still smiling.

“Well, _that_ wasn’t egoistical at all.”

“Hey, I’m just telling the truth.”

“Asshole.” She threw a couple of branches at him. “But you know, I’m gonna let that slide for now because my hands are really greasy and I want to clean them like, right now, but trust me when I say this, it won’t happen next time.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, watching her jump to her feet. She nodded hastily.

“Oh yeah.” She started walking in the direction of the lake without waiting for his reply. Yet she’d be lying if she said she didn’t smile when she heard him laugh—genuinely as well, so much so that it didn’t belong to this hellhole of a reality show. Yet it was also what this show needed.

What _she_ needed, if she wanted to get through this with a soul left behind.

* * *

Tying the rope once more around the tree trunk, just to be sure that it was tight and wouldn’t just snap off, Kara balanced herself on the branch once again as she swung her backpack off of her shoulder. Slowly she slid down the branch a bit to reach the end of the rope. Damn, couldn’t these branches be a bit wider?

“You okay up there?” she heard Mon-El ask from the ground. The leaves of the tree were so thick that he couldn’t see her—and she could only see him with her X-ray vision anyway—so she couldn’t exactly blame him for being worried. She tried to set her feet down into a more stable place.

“Yeah, just give me a couple more seconds.” She slid the rope under the straps of the backpack and wrapped it around the branch two times, just in case, before testing the strength for it. It didn’t seem like it would break. “Okay. That looks good to me. Can you see it from down there?”

“Nope. Just you rustling the leaves.”

“Ha ha.” She moved to the trunk of the tree to climb down, and on the last couple of feet she just jumped down, landing smoothly on her feet.

Alien strength did come in handy.

“You know,” she heard Mon-El say as she turned to him, “this ‘tying our supplies to the tree so that no one can steal it’ idea was pretty good.” She arched her brow.

“Just good?” she asked playfully, arching her brow. He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, it was pretty amazing. I mean, assuming we can find the right tree.”

An idea popped in Kara’s mind with those words, and she couldn’t help smirking. She grabbed the knife that she’d tucked inside her boot. “Well, I have a solution for that as well.” She turned to the tree, carving two letters on it.

_K + M._

She knew the connotations of it, she knew it might even be bordering on inappropriate, but she was feeling playful; besides, if one of them was going to die sooner rather than later, she might as well do it, right?

Turning back to Mon-El, she couldn’t help grinning. “Now we will never forget that this is our tree.” She arched a brow, waiting for his reaction…and when an involuntary laugh bubbled out of his chest, she couldn’t help feeling proud.

At the very least she’d managed to make him laugh.

“Well, I guess we won’t forget,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

After gathering the rest of their items, which consisted of some leftover meat, two bananas from the Cornucopia, as many knives as they could carry, and Kara’s bow and arrow, they started walking. Kara doubted they’d run into trouble, but one could never be too sure, and she wasn’t taking any chances. Even if they didn’t attack the careers today, they might run into some unfriendly faces on the way there.

It was about five minutes after they left their campsite that Kara finally managed to ask the question that had been bothering her since the previous day. She couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Mon-El. “I have to ask you something.”

He turned to her curiously. “Should I be scared?”

“No, no, it’s… It’s nothing like that. I just can’t help wondering… You know, why you didn’t team up with the Careers. Why you chose me over them.”

“Other than the fact that you’re a much nicer person?”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Mon-El, I’m being serious.”

“I was completely serious.” She shot him a glare. “What?”

“Can you just please answer the question honestly?” she begged, biting her lip. Of course, she knew there was the obvious reason: that they were both aliens and could understand each other in a way no one else could. But…it certainly couldn’t be just that, could it? She knew how the Careers were raised, and if Mon-El was taught the same values, he should be with the Careers, going on a bloody murder rampage in the Games. But he was with her, trying to _stop_ that from happening.

In fact, he wanted to do that even without their alliance. That alone should indicate there was more, shouldn’t it?

“Well, first of all, they don’t really like me. Especially Samantha,” Mon-El started, his voice finally sounding serious. Kara grimaced.

“Yeah, I don’t think you need to regret that.” He chuckled and shook his head.

“That’s true. She just… Well, you know, she is one of the strongest girls in District 2, and when she volunteered, she was sure she’d win. She assumed no one from the boys would dare volunteer against her either. And me volunteering, even though it had nothing to do with her, was a challenge for her.”

“But you said Winn was your best friend.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she cares,” Mon-El shrugged dismissively. “She wants to win, and she thinks I’m a threat, and honestly, I didn’t want to work with someone who might stab me in the back any time.”

Kara smiled. Even though he didn’t say it outright, his words implied that he trusted her enough to work with her—to sleep next to her without fearing that she might kill him.

“But that’s just… You know, that’s just an addition to the real reasons. I just…didn’t want to be involved in their bloodlust and killings. I’m not… I don’t want to do that. I know that eventually, I will have to, but I want to avoid it as much as possible, and teaming up with the Careers isn’t the way to do that.”

“Well, duh,” Kara chuckled before she stopped. “Wait, you said _reasons._ Is there something else?” She turned to him, only to see that his eyes were already on her. They looked intense, in a way that made her square her shoulders.

“I would have to hurt you,” he whispered, so quietly that even Kara barely heard him. She sucked in a sharp breath. “And I wasn’t lying when I said I wouldn’t kill you if it came down to it. Not even to win.”

Her steps slowed down without her intention. She searched his face, hoping to find…what, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know whether she wanted his words to be true or not. In a way, his determination to not hurt her was incredibly sweet, but she also wanted him to fight. She didn’t want to give up for someone he just met a couple of days ago—even if that person was a piece from his home.

“Mon-El…” she tried to say, but her voice sounded too hoarse with the emotions. He quickly shook his head.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just…wanted you to know that, so you don’t worry about me hurting or…or betraying you.” He cleared his throat with a frown, and without letting her open her mouth he continued. “Anyway, we should continue. We don’t want to be out there when it gets dark.”

He started walking, and for a second—it felt more like a minute in Kara’s mind—all Kara could do was watch him. _He said the real reasons,_ she couldn’t help thinking. Which meant… She was so important to him that he considered her safety the main factor in his decisions. In fact, it seemed like he’d do anything to keep her away from harm—even if he had no other choice. Even if they were the last two, she had a feeling that he’d kill himself before he killed her, and that was so terrifying that Kara didn’t want to even think about it.

She hoped that it would never come to that, because if she had to be honest… She didn’t think she could kill him either.

* * *

“Wow,” Kara said, narrowing her eyes at the Careers’ lair. Specifically, the huge pyramid of stuff that was standing so tall that you could probably see it from miles away over the trees. “That’s…a whole lot of stuff. Is there even that many things in Cornucopia?”

Mon-El leaned over the tree trunk next to him. “Yep. It’s not really a surprise one of the Careers wins every year.”

“I mean, with those kinds of resources…” She shook her head. “How did they even manage to build that pyramid in less than a day?”

“Well, the first thing they teach us at our training is that the most important thing in the Games is to protect our resources. As I said, we aren’t supposed to rely on hunting as much as other tributes, so we can’t lose what we have.” He narrowed his eyes. “Though I don’t know how exactly they’re protecting the pyramid now, except that tribute sitting there… Is he from District 3?”

Kara tried to remember the boy from District 3. The only thing she honestly remembered about him was that he was young, and apparently—at least according to what she heard around—he was really good with technology. But other than that, he didn’t have any fighting skill whatsoever. It made no sense for the Careers to trust the protection of their resources to him.

“Are you sure the Careers are adamant in protecting their resources?” she whispered to Mon-El. He nodded with a frown, yet even he looked unsure.

“There has to be something there. For them to leave it like that… It doesn’t make any sense.”

Well, Kara couldn’t help agreeing. Squinting, she used her X-ray vision to look at the area. The pyramid itself didn’t seem to be anything but around it…

Were those mines?

The mines! Of course. Why hadn’t she thought about that before? The Gamemakers placed mines under the Hunger Games field to prevent anyone from having a headstart. If anyone stepped on the ground before the time, they’d blow up into pieces.

But the mines would be deactivated the moment the Games started. Yet these… Kara focused her hearing on them, to hear a certain buzz that indicated they were very much not deactivated. Her eyes flickered to the tribute from District 3 then. The “tech genius”…

Could he have really found a way to activate the mines? Well, that was a good way for protection.

But how could she tell all of that to Mon-El without making it obvious that she had superpowers? Would it be such a leap in logic to just assume she’d think about the mines?

As she was debating that, they were interrupted by a cannon shot. Another death. Kara’s eyes met Mon-El’s, her heart stuttering in her chest.

Another death. That meant only half of the tributes were left. In a matter of two days, twelve tributes had died.

“That must be the Careers,” Mon-El whispered with a grimace. Kara could only nod. “That’s why they weren’t around here. They must’ve been following someone.”

“Yeah.” He turned his eyes to their left, where Kara heard shuffling and laughing sounds—presumably where the Careers were now. Both of them went silent when they came out of the forest; they doubted the Careers would notice them from so far away, yet you couldn’t be too cautious here. Instead, they opted to watch the Careers. Samantha was in front of all of them, cleaning her bloody knife on her shirt as a smile split her face. Behind her was the girl and boy from District 1 that Kara totally forgot the names of.

“Well, that was a nice kill, Samantha. That girl did not see what was coming her way.” Samantha grinned.

“I would’ve actually taken my time with it, but I was hungry.” She stepped in front of the District 3 boy. Her smile turned into a sneer.

So this alliance with the boy wasn’t all that pleasant.

“You saw anyone around here?” Samantha asked the boy, which he only answered by shaking his head. “Good. So why don’t you deactivate those mines of yours so we can celebrate this death with some…well, whatever we have here. I think I see a bottle of alcohol over there.”

Kara glanced at Mon-El. “They give alcohol to the tributes?” she couldn’t help whispering. He just shrugged, as if he couldn’t be surprised with anything that the Capitol did anymore.

“Did she say mines?” he just asked, turning to Kara. Her eyes widened. _Yes!_ This was her chance.

“The mines…” she said as if she was thinking about it. “Are they talking about the ones that the Capitol put? You know, the ones to prevent people from starting early?”

“But those would be deactivated by now. Unless…” She could pinpoint the moment Mon-El figured out what she realized minutes ago. His eyes lit up. “That’s why they teamed up with the boy from District 3. They needed him to activate the mines to protect their goods. To prevent anyone from coming close.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, looking at the pyramid. “And if we find a way to make all the mines explode at once…”

“We could actually destroy their food. We might actually put them at a disadvantage.”

“Well, I mean, assuming we can even find a way…” Kara was just saying when Mon-El turned to her. He didn’t seem worried at all.

“We will.” She arched her brow.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m not giving up,” he said, straightening his shoulders. “And I’m sure you won’t give up either.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him, at the confidence in his voice and the trust in his eyes. She nodded.

“Yeah. Not giving up again.”


	13. Disadvantage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello y'all!
> 
> okay, so, first of all i'm so sorry this chapter took like FOREVER to post. first, i had my exams and finals, which meant social media or writing was out of question, then i had a huge fight with my parents so again, i didn't really feel like writing, and THEN i went to vacation with a couple of friends where like there's literally zero freaking internet sooooo i couldn't post anything, but now i'm kinda, sorta back. i mean, next year i'll be applying to colleges, so i'll be pretty busy and i don't know whether i will be able to post regularly, but i'll try i guess lol. 
> 
> anyway, saying that, i'm sure most of you watched the Supergirl season finale and are disappointed. i'll be honest, i didn't watch it because, A, i was pretty busy and didn't have internet, and B, when i did get internet i heard all the spoilers and i was like...i'm not watching that thing. now i know Chris left the show, and i 100% support his decision, but the way the show handled it was so horrible. like...if they were gonna get rid of Mon-El at the end anyway, why build the ship throughout season 3? they had all the chance to separate them, and yet all the signs signaled to a reunion, at least in my eyes. but we get this...shithole of a lazy, thoughtless writing. so yeah, that kind of threw me off as well and i didn't even want to write for a day, but then i thought about it: as much as they ruined Karamel in the show, i loved them before. i loved their interactions, i loved their story in season 2, i loved their happiness and their love and their support and everything in between. just because the show ruined them doesn't mean i have to give them up as well. that is why fanfiction exists, right? to give us what show writers didn't. i can still do that, even if Karamel doesn't exist in the show.
> 
> honestly, i don't know how many people will stay in the fandom anymore. i don't know how many people will read these fics. i'll still write about Karamel. i love writing, and i especially love writing about Kara and Mon-El as characters. and the show doesn't have Karamel, so what? we'll still have these fics, right? nothing can stop us from writing and reading them. 
> 
> so anyway, just wanted to get them off my chest. TL;DR, i am hoping to write more the next few days, Supergirl writers suck, and i'll keep writing these fics even if Karamel doesn't exist in the show. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter :)
> 
> p.s. i know i haven't been on Tumblr much either, and i'm hoping to get back to that. again, finally, no social media ban, no exams and finally i have internet, so if you have any questions or just want to talk, hit me up there at @busysciencegeek :)
> 
> p.s. 2. also, the reason these updates have been so late is that i've been working on a new Karamel multichapter AU, which i'm really excited about, soooo just wanted to inform you. even if these updates are late, just know that there'll be something big coming up afterwards :)

* * *

It had taken Mon-El and Kara the good part of the day to come up with a solid plan to destroy the Career’s resources. First, Kara would take her place, and signal Mon-El with a code word: Apples. She knew that _technically_ they shouldn’t be able to communicate, but she doubted anyone would assume “apples” was a signal to Mon-El—since apples were also the way they planned to destroy the Career’s resources. There were apples hanging from a net at the side of the pyramid, and if Kara managed to cut through the net with her arrows, she’d be able to ensure that all mines exploded at once.

In the meantime, to draw the Careers away, Mon-El would start three fires. They’d deliberately selected branches with many leaves so that the smoke would be apparent enough. And when the Careers were away…

That was when the fun would start.

Kara had been repeating that in her head the next day, as she and Mon-El made preparations. She put the last branch to the last site of fire before she straightened up. “I think that would be enough,” she whispered, glancing up at Mon-El. He nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You know what you need to do after lighting all of this up, right?”

“Yeah, Kara—“

“You have to run as far as _humanly_ possible and climb a tree so that they can’t spot you.” She looked up at him and bit her lip. As much as she knew he was superpowered and could probably beat all of the Careers singlehandedly, she also couldn’t forget that he was vulnerable to _lead._ One mistake could… “They have _weapons,_ Mike,” she reminded him, a hand grasping his arm. He just smiled down at her.

“Don’t worry about me, Kara. I’m not defenseless against them.”

“I’ll always worry about you.” Kara didn’t even regret letting herself be vulnerable as she said those words. Mon-El at least deserved to know that she cared about him, especially if things went south today. He smiled down at her, pushing back a strand of her hair that escaped her hair tie.

“Hey, I’ll be okay. I’m one damn runner.” He winked at her before pulling her into a brief hug. Kara didn’t push him away—instead, she hugged him back just as tightly, relishing in the feeling that she didn’t have to control her powers.

“Be safe,” she whispered in his ear. He nodded.

“You too.” He pulled back to look at her face. “Shoot the hell out of those apples.”

“Will do.” Kara smiled, reluctantly letting him go. She looked at him for one more second—one second that stretched into forever with her powers—burning his face into her mind before she turned around to leave for her position.

Maybe it was ridiculous that she’d gotten so attached to him in a matter of two days. But they were in a crazy, life-or-death situation that was bound to bring people closer easily. And there was this…this understanding, this past between them that she just couldn’t shake. At least she stopped trying to forget, because… She had to admit that Mon-El had been right before. Spending a couple of days with him and losing him was much better than never having him at all.

Having a moment of happiness in a sea of darkness was ultimately better than staying in the dark.

* * *

It took Kara about twenty minutes to get to her position, give or take five minutes. (It wasn’t as if she had a watch to confirm.) Hiding behind the bushes, her bow in her hand and arrows strapped on her back, she eyed the Careers’ lair and especially their resource pyramid. And there they were—her target, the apples. She smiled, reaching back to take an arrow before she whispered, “apples.”

Only a couple of seconds later she saw a smoke coming from the forest, far enough away from where she was. She smiled. The game was _on._

“Hey,” Kara heard a yell from the Careers. Samantha. She’d stood up, pointing at where the smoke was coming from. “Hey! Look!” The other Careers stood up as well. The boy from District 1—Kara couldn’t remember his name at all—laughed.

“Man these tributes are stupid,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed his weapons from the pile—a spear. Samantha smirked back at her.

“Then let’s get ‘em.” She turned to look at the tribute from district 3. “Guard the resources.” The boy could just nod and gulp, watching Careers as they ran in the direction of the smoke before activating the mines.

That click, and watching the Careers disappear, was Kara’s cue. She placed the arrow to her bow, aiming it to the apples. She took a deep breath, focusing all her senses on that one arrow and her target. She couldn’t let worries or doubts distract her—not now, not when this was imperative. She had one chance of doing this without alerting the district 3 boy. One arrow.

Her eyes locked on the apples, she slowly released her breath and let go of the arrow.

She watched it in slow motion, the arrow cutting the net, releasing the apples around the pyramid. The first apple hit the ground, the boy turned to look at what was going on—

Kara threw herself on the ground the moment the mines started exploding. One, two, three—and then a big explosion that indicated the whole pyramid must’ve exploded. She didn’t dare look up before she was sure that the explosions were over. Not that she could get hurt, but she needed to pretend to be human, right?

She then jumped to her feet, looking above the bushes to Careers’ hideout—or what was left from it. The explosion… It had not only destroyed the supplies, it also blew back _everything._ A surprised chuckle escaped her mouth. It’d worked. She’d done it.

They’d done it.

Her ears caught a faint whisper then. “Congrats, sleeping beauty.” She couldn’t help laughing. Well, at least Mon-El was okay as well.

Gathering up her bow and arrow, she was just prepared to leave before the Careers came back when her ears caught a groan. She turned around to look at the explosion site, her eyes scanning over it—

She saw the boy from district 3 lying where the explosion must’ve sent him. A quick X-ray scan of him told Kara that he wasn’t injured badly, except probably the mental wound of the shock of the explosion. He looked up from where he was to the supply pyramid—or what was left of it. And what Kara saw in his eyes was real, tangible fear.

“No,” he whispered, trying to push himself up to his feet. “No, no, no.” He pushed away his blond curls with a shaky hand, but otherwise, he seemed to be frozen.

The situation clicked for Kara only then. She hadn’t thought about it before, but she couldn’t help remembering the previous day, and how hostile Samantha was towards the poor boy. There was no doubt that the Careers only aligned with him for his tech skills, and now that it had failed them…

They would kill the boy. There was no doubt about that.

Kara knew she should let it go. It wasn’t like the boy would survive the rest of the Games anyway. And yet…hadn’t she and Mon-El destroyed Careers’ supplies to help other tributes? To diminish at least a bit of the Careers’ advantage? Knowing that, how could she just turn her back to a helpless tribute, who was in danger because of her in the first place?

She hesitated for only a tenth of a second before she made her decision, turning around to run towards the boy. “Hey!” she yelled to get his attention. He looked at her with glassy eyes. “Hey, run. Run!” She gestured at the opposite side of the forest frantically, yet the guy finally seemed to process what she was trying to say. He stumbled back, almost falling down, yet he caught his momentum in a second.

Kara followed him—just to make sure he survived—and risked a glance over her shoulder to see if the Careers were behind them. She could hear their footsteps coming close, yet with her adrenaline, she couldn’t figure out exactly where they were.

She didn’t quite expect to see them rush out of the forest. Samantha was in the lead, her eyes flickering around their destroyed supplies before she turned around. At Kara. Their eyes locked, and Kara could pinpoint the moment Samantha figured out she was the one that destroyed their supplies.

_Shit._

Kara slipped the bow through her arm to reach for a knife, keeping it in her hand as she followed the district 3 boy. If the Careers got too close, she would need to fight them, and… Well, she doubted that would be nice.

She caught up with the boy a couple of seconds later after giving her steps a bit of superpower. She grabbed his arm, bringing him to a stop for a moment. “Find Mike Matthews,” she told him. Though her words weren’t for the boy—it was for Mike, whom she was sure was listening now. “Tell him Kara sent you. Go!” She pushed the boy forward as she went in the opposite direction, thinking the Careers would opt to follow her instead of him.

Their footsteps confirmed her suspicions: the person who destroyed their supplies actively was more important to them than the boy who failed to protect them. She smiled, picking up her pace, eyeing the trees around her to find a good one to climb onto. You know, once she put some distance between herself and the Careers.

Thinking about that… She briefly glanced at the knife in her hand. She knew her aim was next to perfect when she was standing still. Even if she threw the knife at something behind her. While running, though… It took a bit more effort, even with her heightened senses and killer instincts.

Yet she had to try, even at the risk of losing her knife. She had a couple more, and that…that had to be enough.

She slowed down her breath to focus her hearing to the Careers behind her and their movements, trying to build a mental picture. Her grip tightened around the knife. Inhale. She locked in the movements of the Career in the front. Exhale. She spun the knife in her hand to get a better grip. Inhale. She slowed down to better her aim. Exhale… She turned around for a split second, extending her arm, and threw the knife.

She had to turn around before seeing if she was successful, yet the grunt she heard gave her the evidence she needed. She grinned as she heard the footsteps slow down behind her, Careers stopping to take care of their fallen friend. There was no cannon shot, so he or she couldn’t be dead.

Kara risked back another glance over her shoulder, and for a split second her eyes met with Samantha’s. She was on the ground, a knife lodged in her shoulder. (Well, now it made sense why the Careers stopped. Kara doubted that Samantha would stop to help one of her friends and let Kara go if she wasn’t the one that was hurt.) And the look in her eyes…

It promised revenge.


	14. Jerry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> sorry this chapter took me literally forEVER, i think i rewrote it what, like two times, because i initially planned on doing something else with it but i didn't like it, so... anyway, here you go! hope you like it :)

__

* * *

 

_Find Mike Matthews. Tell him Kara sent you. Go!_

Mike repeated the words in his head as he moved through the forest, trying to be as silent as possible, listening. He could hear the harsh sounds of the Careers—they never really learned to be quiet. One of them was injured, if their conversation was an indication, and they were returning to their “lair”—or whatever was left of it. It was a relief, at least. That meant Kara was safe.

Yet he also heard two sets of footprints, coming from different directions. One was soft, quiet, so much so that even his super-hearing barely caught it. He knew it must be Kara. The other was louder and more frantic, leaving a trail of broken branches and disturbed leaves behind. That must be the guy Kara was talking to—the district 3 boy, if he had to guess. (He should’ve known Kara wouldn’t leave him behind. Not that he was angry at her for it, he would’ve done the same thing.) He racked his brain to remember what the boy’s name was. He knew it started with J. Josh? John? Joshua? It was something along those lines.

He followed the sound of the boy’s footsteps, hoping to catch him. He was worried about Kara, he wanted to see her as soon as possible, yet he knew Kara would want him to take care of Jack—Jones? Jackson? Jordan?—first.

He caught up with the kid less than a minute later. Well, more like the kid _crashed_ into him the moment he stepped in his path. He wasn’t really looking forward, Mon-El realized, instead watching his back with heavy breaths and thumping heart. He noticed the scratches on the boy’s face, caused presumably by the low-hanging branches.

Mon-El’s hands instinctively shot out to grab the boy’s shoulder before he could fall. The boy looked up—and then a shriek left his mouth as he pushed away from Mon-El, stumbling back, only to fall on the ground. _Shit._ Okay, maybe barreling into the kid wasn’t the right idea.

He knelt down, opening his palms to show that he meant no harm. “Hey, kid, I’m not going to hurt you. See? I’m not armed.” Well, he actually had two knives with him, but the boy didn’t need to know _that_. He already looked scared enough, his green eyes wide as saucers. He pushed away a strand of red hair.

“A-Are you Mike?” the boy asked. Mon-El nodded, urging for him to continue as he stepped forward—very, very slowly. “Kara…sent me to find you. I—I’m Jerry.”

Well, at least he was right that the boy’s name started with a J. Mon-El put a surprised expression on his face. He wasn’t supposed to know Jerry was sent by Kara, at the end.

“Kara? What are you talking about?”

Jerry tried to calm his breath—unsuccessfully—before he opened his mouth again. “The Careers. They’re—They’re after me. They’re gonna kill me, and I don’t know—“

“Hey, hey, Jerry, calm down.” Mon-El took a step forward and softly held Jerry’s hand. Luckily, Jerry didn’t pull back this time. “I’m going to protect you, okay? If Kara trusts you, I trust you.” Jerry gulped, his eyes untrusting at first, but then he nodded. Mon-El offered him a small smile and pulled him up to his feet, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady to boy. Damn, he looked even shorter up close. How old was he? Twelve?

Not that it mattered now. Kara trusted him with Jerry, and he wasn’t about to let her down. He…might not be able to keep him alive, but he could make sure that Careers didn’t kill him at least.

“Hey, kid? What do you say we go find Kara, huh? She’ll be worried about us.” Jerry’s eyes lit up as he nodded, and Mon-El felt something crack in his heart. God, how…how _sick_ Capitol could be to send these innocent kids into a situation like this? How cruel they could be to not bat an eyelash when they died? He thought he hated Capitol before, but damn, now he utterly despised them.

But he mostly despised himself for not being able to change anything.

* * *

Kara had been waiting in the meeting site for about half an hour now for Mon-El to come. She knew he would be slow, as he now had a little boy, Jerry, with him, yet that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. She even _heard_ their footsteps, damn it, yet she still found herself looking around every couple of seconds as she chewed on a banana. She also had an apple, yet the thing disgusted her to look at after today, so she decided to put it aside. She also hunted on the way here—a rabbit and a bird—but she decided to wait for Mon-El to cook them.

She looked up again when she heard the voices approach her, and soon enough Mon-El and Jerry emerged from the trees. Kara dropped the half eaten banana in her hand as she jumped to her feet. “Mike.” And then she moved forward, meeting Mon-El in the middle and wrapping him into a tight hug. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder, just breathing him in, letting him wash away the stresses of the day.

God she needed this hug so badly, she couldn’t even care about what it meant.

“The Careers saw my face,” she whispered into his shirt, knowing he would be able to hear. Mon-El nodded.

“It’s okay. We’ll handle them.”

“I’m sorry.” Mon-El pushed her back just to look at her face. His eyes were not harsh, per se, but determined.

“Don’t be,” he said, and Kara knew he meant it. She couldn’t help smiling with a mix of relief and gratitude. She then turned to Jerry, who’d been watching them with a mix of fascination and horror. She tried to put on a friendly face as she knelt down to the kid’s height.

“Hey, you okay?” Jerry just nodded, eyeing Mon-El before he turned to her.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for saving my life.” Kara just shrugged with a laugh.

“Well, I put it in danger in the first place, what with blowing up the Careers’ resources. Anyway, I did a bit of hunting coming here, and I’m sure you must be hungry.” Jerry’s eyes literally bulged out of his sockets as he eyes the rabbit and the bird. Kara grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now come on, sit down. I think we all deserved a bit of a celebration after today.” Her eyes flickered to Mon-El, and her smile widened.

Yeah, they could definitely use a bit of a celebration.

* * *

Jerry looked even younger than his age as he slept, Kara’s sleeping bag wrapped around his small shoulders. Mon-El was lying inside the other sleeping bag, and insisted that Kara _at_ _least_ extended her legs inside, so that she “didn’t feel cold” as she kept watch. Technically, she _wouldn’t,_ but she could sense that the air was cold and since it would’ve been weird if she was just unaffected by it, she had to accept Mon-El’s request.

So now she was watching Jerry sleep as Mon-El rested his head against her thigh. (She desperately tried to ignore just how _close_ their bodies were—and she so was _not_ stroking his hair, thank you very much.) A sigh escaped her lips. “How old is Jerry?” she couldn’t help asking Mon-El. The boy hadn’t said anything about it, and Kara couldn’t remember for the life of her. And he knew Mon-El wasn’t sleeping from his irregular breathing pattern.

Mon-El’s grey eyes settled on her. “Twelve, I think,” he whispered back. “But damn if he doesn’t look younger.” He scrunched up his face in disgust, and Kara could almost hear his thoughts, even though he couldn’t voice them here. _How could Capitol do this to such a young boy?_

“He was really hungry, too,” Kara couldn’t help pointing out. The three of them had eaten so much that they had to set another trap, just in case. “Didn’t the Careers feed him or something? They had all the food.”

“If I knew them, no,” Mon-El sighed. “They would’ve offered him protection and something to keep him alive, but only that. They like to conserve their resources for themselves.” Kara gritted her teeth. As if she needed any more reasons to hate the Careers.

Well, at least now they didn’t have their precious resources, so they had to fend off for themselves.

“Can I ask you something?” She turned her attention back at Mon-El with his question. “Why did you save Jerry?”

“What?”

“Why did you save him?” Mon-El propped himself up, just so that he could look at Kara’s face. He looked thoughtful. “I mean, not that I’m blaming you for it, but you knew he worked with the Careers. You knew you would make yourself a target to them if you were seen. Why did you do it?”

Kara thought about lying for a moment. She could say that Jerry followed her. She could say she didn’t have a choice. But she stopped. What was the point of lying?

“He looked terrified, Mike,” she explained, biting her lip. “And I knew the Careers would kill him. I couldn’t leave him there. We… Damn it, we blew up the Careers’ resources to even the playing field, so they wouldn’t easily hunt down weaker tributes. It would be hypocritical if I let Jerry just die there.” When she turned to Mon-El, she saw that he was smiling. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just proud of you.” Kara’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the corners of her lips tipping up. She nodded, letting Mon-El slip inside the sleeping bag again.

“You should get some sleep,” she told him, finally letting herself just brush away the couple of strands that had fallen on his forehead. He fortunately didn’t comment on it. “I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”

Mon-El nodded, settling back down, and closed his eyes. His breathing evened out in a couple of minutes, indicating that he must’ve fallen asleep. Kara smiled at his peaceful face, running her hand through his hair yet again—it was almost an absentminded gesture at this point—as she kept her ears open for any sound.

She heard it barely half an hour later. A parachute. Her gaze flickered up, just in time to see something white falling not too far from where she was.

While tributes were expected to take care of themselves in the Games, there were also sponsors, who could buy and send incredibly expensive and useful stuff to tributes, especially to beloved ones. The mentors were usually the ones that asked for them, and… Well, Kara couldn’t be surprised that Hank sent her one, after the events of today. She must’ve earned _some_ respect, at least.

She snuck out of the sleeping bag and made her way to the parachute, leaning down to open the small box. There was a tube of cream and a note inside. Kara first opened the tube, smelling the material inside.

She knew instantly what it was. A cream for cuts and bruises. She looked up at Jerry’s sleeping form, and knew instantly that this was for the boy. It might’ve been from Hank, but it wasn’t meant for her. She took the note, reading what her mentor wrote to her.

_You stole our hearts._

A smile pulled Kara’s lips. She knew what the words meant, instantly. Hank wasn’t talking about blowing up Careers’ resources. That was impressive, but that wouldn’t earn anyone’s love. He was talking about what she did for Jerry. She’d saved his life…and Hank approved it. He, and apparently the sponsors, supported her decision.

She folded the note and tucked it inside her pocket before walking back to their campsite. She kept the cream in her lap as she sat down, her back to a tree, her eyes on Jerry.

Jerry, a twelve year old boy who stood no chance in winning, yet the audience cared enough about to earn her a sponsor.

Well…maybe Capitol wasn’t as cruel as Kara imagined.


End file.
